The Damsel in Distress Diaries
by LilPotterfanfic
Summary: Sidney Gilbert is perfectly fine with being normal- until her parents drive their car off of a bridge and she's suddenly supposed to take care of her two younger siblings. Then there's the fact that her sister is in love with a vampire, her favorite teacher is training her to become a slayer, and the undead are trying to kill her. Also, Damon Salvatore is a great kisser. Dammit.
1. Quoth the Raven

**Damsel In Distress Diaries  
Chapter 1: Quoth the Raven  
A/N:** So… After much contemplation I came to the realization that, not only was Sidney a semi-Mary Sue, the original version of this story was cliched, dry, and featured quite a few plot holes. So, with that in mind, I edited and revised until I was blue in the face, and came up with this. Please enjoy! And if you'd like some background music to the chapter, I'd recommend listening to You- Ha Ha Ha by Charli XCX.

* * *

_September 15th, 2012  
Dear Diary,  
Elena is forcing me to be happy. I swear, sometimes it's like she's the older sister. Which she isn't. I am, I mean. But- as usual- she's forgetting that. Maybe I should just do what Aunt Jenna does, and pretend to be all responsible and mature and stuff.  
Anyways. Elena says she's tired of me moping around all the time, and that she wants to see me smile and take pictures again. I mean, I guess I can see her point. She's making an honest effort to move past everything, and here I am, just sitting in my bedroom, staring at the wall for three hours straight. I haven't even touched my camera since the accident happened. Can you believe that?  
So, yeah. I'll try. It's the least I can do after everything I put Elena, Jeremy, and Jenna through, after all. I'll try to be happy. For them.  
Sincerely,  
Sidney_

* * *

"Sidney, come on. We're gonna be late!" my younger sister's irritated voice called from the hallway, rapping her knuckles against my door.

I felt a streak of annoyance at Elena but brushed it aside, getting to my feet and calling, "I'm coming. I'm coming."

Sometimes Elena forgot that she was my sister (my younger sister, as I constantly felt like reminding her) and not my mother. She may have been just as good at nagging as our mom, but that didn't mean that I had to appreciate it. It was really just plain annoying.

I groaned, cracking my back, and closed my leather journal. One of the thick pages sliced through the pad of my finger with a sting. "Son of a…" I muttered, sticking the finger in my mouth and carelessly tossing the much-abused notebook into my school bag.

"Did something happen?" Elena called.

With a heavy sigh, I jerked the bedroom door open and popped my finger out of my mouth, holding it up for her to see. "Paper cut," I grumbled, and then shrugged. "No big deal."

Elena nodded quickly, eyes falling down to my chest. "Oh, my God," she exclaimed dramatically. "You're wearing it!"

I grinned and rolled my eyes, playfully nudging her as we tramped down the stairs. I knew she was excited to see the camera again; It had been conspicuously absent all summer. Usually, I was taking a million pictures at once, the shutter on my Canon constantly clicking. But after the accident, I'd practically given up taking pictures for months. With the camera back in its rightful place, hanging on a strap around my neck, I finally felt like myself again.

"Someone's awful happy today," I hummed as we strolled into the kitchen.

Elena shrugged and leaned against one of the bar stools. "I'm trying," she said simply.

Jenna pulled her head out of the refrigerator and asked, "You girls hungry? I can make toast."

"Ew, food." My stomach churned unpleasantly and I wrinkled my nose, sticking out my tongue. Ever since the marathon of projectile vomiting after our parents' funeral, my appetite had been pretty much nonexistent.

"I think you might be going anorexic," Elena mumbled. She narrowed her eyes at me before frowning and turning back around, busying herself with pouring a mug of coffee. "It's all about the caffeine, Aunt Jenna. Want some, Sid?"

"Is there coffee?" Jeremy asked, strolling into the kitchen and grabbing an apple out of the basket on the counter. He took a sloppy bite out of it, grinning with a mouthful of fruit at my disgusted expression. I'd stopped asking Jeremy to chew with his mouth closed a long time ago. It was pretty much pointless since he kept doing it anyways.

Jenna lunged for her purse, digging through it for one thing or another. "It's your first day of school, and I'm totally unprepared," she mumbled to herself. Smiling in success, she pulled three bills out of her purple wallet and offered them to us. "Lunch money?"

"I'm good," I said immediately, grabbing my car keys from their hook next to the door. Elena shook her head, focused on adding the right amount of creamer to her coffee, and Jeremy took the liberty of stuffing all three of the five-dollar-bills into his hoodie pocket.

"Anything else?" Jenna asked nervously. "A Number 2.0 pencil? What am I missing…?"

I frowned and bit my lip, glancing at the messy calendar hanging from the side of the fridge. "Didn't you have that big presentation today?"

Jenna blew her reddish bangs out of her face. "I'm meeting with my thesis adviser at…" She checked the plastic watch on her wrist. "Now." She blew out another deep breath and yanked her hair out of its bun. "Crap!"

"Then go," Elena urged, setting down her mug and handing Jenna her purse. "You'll be fine."

With a grateful smile, Jenna grabbed her bag and dashed out the door, calling, "Have a good first day of school!" over her shoulder. I sighed, watching our Aunt go, and released my bottom lip from between my teeth.

I turned to Jeremy. "You okay?" I asked thoughtfully. He didn't look too good this morning. His eyes were blood-shot and ringed with dark circles. He looked pale and slightly green, and a sweet, cloying smell clung to the black hoodie he'd been living in these past few months.

He'd been smoking again.

"Don't start," he sneered at me, following Jenna out of the house.

"Hey, I didn't mean-" I tried to say, but the kitchen door slammed shut and Jeremy was gone. Elena and I heard a car engine rev, and through the living room window, I saw Blake's (one of Jeremy's friends) red pickup truck roll down our street and out of sight.

Elena put a cautioning hand on my shoulder. "Let him go," she said pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed and nodded in defeat. She was right; first thing in the morning probably wasn't the best time to have the drug-talk. "Yeah," I said. "Okay. Yeah. I can do that." My gaze fell on the camera and I grinned, bringing it up to my eye. "Say cheese."

Elena laughed and ducked her head, trying to shield her face with her hands. "Sid, no!" she giggled.

Sticking my tongue out, I lowered the camera and glanced at the TV over Elena's shoulder. The morning news was playing, and I frowned when I saw the story. "Darren Mallory and Brooke Fenton," I muttered. "Ages twenty-two and twenty-four. Found dead outside of town, bodies drained of blood…"

Elena shrugged and tugged on a lock of my hair. "Let's go," she said. "Bonnie's waiting for us. And remember, no negative thoughts today. Alright?"

I nodded. Elena, not looking very convinced, put her hands on my shoulders. "Alright?"

"Alright," I finally said, rolling my eyes. I pulled away from her and bit my lip, twirling the car keys around my index finger. I hated it when Elena treated me like that- like I was some little kid she had to look after. I was the older sister; not her. My eighteenth birthday was in just a little over a month or so, and Elena still acted like she was centuries older than me. I loved her, but the girl seriously got on my nerves sometimes.

We made our way out of the house, Elena securely locking the front door behind us, and buckled ourselves into my beat-up Toyota. I pulled out of the driveway and cranked up the radio, going on autopilot as the car wheels tread the familiar path to Bonnie's mom's house.

Bonnie Bennett was not my best friend. She was Elena's. But at the same time we were close, even if it was kind of weird considering I was a year older than her. Bonnie and I understood each other in a weird way. I thought maybe it was because of how similar we were personality wise.

"Happy school year, _chicas_," she said happily, sliding into the backseat. "Ready to kick ass and take names?"

"Someone's been watching _Charlie's Angels_ again," Elena sing-songed, staring out the window as Bonnie's street blurred by us.

"Hey Bonnie," I said with a grin, glancing at her briefly through the rear view mirror to make sure she buckled her seat belt. After what had happened last spring, road-safety had become something of an obsession of mine.

Bonnie grinned back at me. "So, Grams is telling me I'm psychic," she told us, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Our ancestors were from Salem. Witches and all that. I know. Crazy! But she's going on and on about it, and I'm just like 'put this woman in a home already'!"

I knew Bonnie didn't actually mean that. Her dad didn't like her visiting her Grams very much, but Bonnie loved it. She loved hearing about her ancestors and sorcery and all of her Grams' wild teenage years. The one time I'd visited Grammy Bennett with Bonnie and Elena had been a fun time. The old lady let us stay up all night, sipping on the peach schnapps she saved for special occasions while she told us stories about the ancient druids of the highlands.

"But then," Bonnie continued, "I started thinking. I mean, I predicted Obama."

"And you predicted _The Hunger Games_," I added, making eye-contact with Bonnie in the rear view mirror.

"Thank you, Sid. And I still think Kim Kardashian is going to break the internet someday," Bonnie said with an affirming head nod.

We laughed as the car stopped at the perpetual red light on the turn-off to Main Street. I sighed under my breath and tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, glancing over at a jet-black bird perched on top of the street sign. Crows weren't an odd sight in Mystic Falls. They were our version of the pigeons in Atlanta and the seagulls in Florida. But something about this particular bird just set me on edge, and I didn't really know why.

"'Quoth the raven, nevermore'," I mumbled, recalling lines from the short story we'd read in Honors Language Arts the year before.

A car horn honked, snapping me out of my reverie, and I sheepishly drove the car past the now-green light. If I had looked out the window again, I would have seen the crow staring after my Toyota before taking off and following after it with a piercing caw.

"Elena!" Bonnie snapped, leaning through the crack between the two front seats. I glanced over and saw that my younger sister was anywhere but in the car, staring at the old cemetery with a frown. I sighed. She was channeling her inner Bella Swan again.

"Back in the car, please?" Bonnie pleaded.

Elena turned back to us and blinked. Then she reddened and ducked her chin sheepishly. "I did it again, didn't I?"

I shrugged, easing the car onto Main Street. "Yep," I said, popping my p.

Elena groaned and knocked the back of her head against her seat. "I'm sorry, Bonnie," she apologized. "You were telling me that…?"

"That I'm psychic now," Bonnie said with a cocky grin.

"Right." Elena shot her a dubious look. "Then predict something about me."

I watched with a wide grin as Bonnie screwed her eyes tightly shut and smiled, saying loudly, "I see-"

There was a thump and I whipped my head back around in time to see something big and black smash against the windshield. The wheels skidded across the road. I shrieked, brakes squealing along with me, and jerked the steering wheel hard left as we skidded dangerously close to the large tree in the center of the square. My arm whipped out, stopping Elena from crashing into the glove compartment, as the car tail spun to the side of the road and finally came to a stop.

There was stunned silence for a few minutes while the three of us caught our breaths again. Blood was pounding in my ears. My chest heaved up and down. I could still feel the ice-cold adrenaline racing through my veins, and I cursed myself for being so careless. Hadn't I learned anything from my parents? How could I be so careless with my little sister and my close friend's lives?

I gulped down a few breaths and turned to look at Bonnie and Elena. They seemed shaken, but okay. "Is everyone alright?" I asked, just to make sure.

Bonnie nodded and released the white-knuckled grip she'd had on her seat belt. "We're fine," she assured me, and glanced out the window. "What was that?"

"I don't know," I whispered.

Elena looked like she was about to have a panic attack again. I immediately felt guilty and wondered if I needed to call Aunt Jenna and tell her to pick up Elena's prescription again. My younger sister had been suffering from anxiety ever since the accident, and had only recently been able to stop taking her medication. I worried this might have brought on another bout of anxiety attacks.

"Elena," I called. She didn't seem to realize I was there. "Elena!"

She sucked in a deep breath and then just sort of deflated in on herself like a popped bouncy house. I watched in concern as she wrapped her arms around her chest, like she could hold herself together from the outside, panting shakily. "It's okay," she told me. "I'm fine."

I didn't believe that for a second, but I knew Elena, and I knew she wasn't about to admit that she was hurting. "Are you sure?" I asked. "I can take you home-"

"I'm fine, Sidney!" she snapped at me, keeping her eyes tightly shut. "Just let me catch my breath. I'm fine, I promise."

"If you say so," I muttered, and then started the car again. Thankfully, it didn't seem like anything had been broken when I lost control, but I would still ask Matt Donavon to take a look under the hood the next time I got the chance.

There were a few minutes of tense silence, and then Bonnie, probably trying to relieve some of the awkward, said loudly, "I predict that this year is going to be kick-ass. And I predict that all the sad and dark times are going to be over and done with. And that you two are going to be beyond happy."

Elena grinned and chuckled under her breath. "Thanks, Bonnie," she said. "I'll keep that in mind."

Bonnie smiled cheekily, surveying the front lawn of the school through the windows as we passed it. "Major lack of male real estate," she commented with a pout.

I rolled my eyes, pulling into the spot that I had paid for in the crowded senior lot. "Come on," I said, cutting the engine and grabbing my bag. "Let's head in. Can't be late for the first day."

Elena nodded in agreement and hopped out of the car. We ambled across the cross-walk and onto the school's front lawn, dodging a pack of stick-wielding lacrosse players and entering the building with ease.

Bonnie grabbed my arm and jerked me down to her height. "Did you see the shower curtain on Kelly Leach?" she whispered in my ear. "She looks like a hot, tranny mess."

I bit my lip and stared at the floral-print dress Bonnie was talking about. Now that I thought about it, didn't I own one that looked a lot like that? "I have a dress like that!" I said defensively, biting my lip again.

Bonnie stared at me for a second and then shrugged, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Then throw it away. It does absolutely nothing for your figure. My God, the thing is absolutely shapeless."

Elena rolled her eyes at the two of us and stopped at locker 422. She pulled a folded piece of paper from her back pocket, stared at it for a second, and then spun the dial on her lock. The door swung open and she stuffed her packed school bag in, shutting the locker again with a metallic clang. "Thank God." She sighed in relief, cracking her back. "That thing must've weighed one-hundred pounds."

"You two do know you're in for it, right?" I asked with eyebrows raised. "Junior year is the hardest one. And Mr. Tanner definitely packs a punch on you guys."

Bonnie groaned dramatically and leaned against the wall. "We know, Sidney!" she said. Her eyes focused on something across the hall from us and she nodded, a sly grin on her face. "It's a busy year."

I looked in the direction of her stare and smiled. Matt Donovan was standing there, ear buds in, staring right at us. And then I noticed that, more specifically, he was staring at Elena. Not Bonnie or me.

Elena smiled kindly at him and he just stared at her for a minute with deep, blue eyes, before giving her a short nod and turning back around. She sighed. "He hates me."

"Not hate," I tried to say. "He doesn't hate you! He, um… He just needs time. That's all."

Elena shrugged and I bit my lip, knowing I hadn't convinced her in the slightest. "Sure," she said with another sigh. "Whatever."

"Elena! Sid! Oh, my God."

A blonde blur rushed up to us and squeezed me around the stomach, pointy nails digging into my back through my green shirt. Elena wheezed for breath beside me and patted Caroline Forbes on the back awkwardly. "Hey Caroline."

Caroline pulled back and grinned, surveying us with concerned blue eyes. "How are you?" She turned to Bonnie when we waited too long to answer. "How are they? Are they good?"

Elena raised an eyebrow. "Caroline, we're right here. And we're fine." She stomped down hard on my foot, and I yelped in pain. Those sneakers could really hurt when Elena tried hard enough.

"What?" I demanded. Elena shot me a pointed look and I turned to Caroline with a sigh. "We're cool," I promised. "Really, you don't have to worry."

Caroline pouted at me and pulled me into another hug. "You poor thing."

"Mm hm," I hummed, glaring at Bonnie, who was chuckling, over Caroline's shoulder.

I loved Caroline, I really did. But there were times when she was just… too much for me to handle. Maybe it was just the cynical senior in me, but I'd been noticing how immature she was lately a lot more than I had in the past. Caroline was sweet, and I knew that- deep down- she wasn't as insensitive and vapid as she tried to appear. That was an easy thing to forget though, most of the time.

She finally pulled away and gave the three of us a genuine, hopeful smile, hitching the strap of her bag higher up on her shoulder. "See you guys later?"

Elena smiled her signature, closed-mouth smile. "See you later."

"We could meet up at the Grille for dinner," I suggested. "Fries, chicken salad, iced tea, the usual?"

"Sounds good," Caroline said. She waved and rushed off, and I turned to Bonnie and my younger sister with a rueful grin.

"It's good to see Caroline again," I hedged. They didn't comment, which I was grateful for, and I pulled my crumpled-up schedule out of my back pocket. "Photography with Mr. West first," I said. "I'll see you guys for lunch?"

Bonnie nodded and then frowned, reaching up and patting down some frizzies that stuck up stubbornly from my fluffy brown waves. "I'll text you," she said. "Let you know if anyone magically became datable over the summer."

I had to laugh at that. "Doubt-able, but the consideration is appreciated."

Elena was staring at the wrinkled piece of paper that was my schedule in distaste. "I can't believe you can stand treating your things like that," she complained. "You're so messy."

I shrugged. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it. I've gotta go. 'Stasia is in that class with me, and you know how she gets around people she isn't friends with."

"Good luck," Elena called after me as I strode down the main corridor and into the tech-hall.

I had to admit, being a senior was pretty awesome. Freshmen and sophomores parted before me like the Red Sea, and I reveled in the high that was my very last first-day-of-school. This time next year, I'd be far, far away in that magical institution called Wake Forest College. Or at least I hoped so. I still had to get through college applications, which I knew was going to be a nasty, stressful process.

Mr. West's classroom was a familiar one to me. It was a bit like my sanctuary at school. I had been in the Photography class since freshman year, and Mr. West had been my mentor and favorite teacher the entire time. He was the teacher in charge of the yearbook committee, which Anastasia and I were both a part of, and had had his photos featured in _The Mystic Times_, _National Geographic_, and _Time Magazine_. I appreciated his opinionated nature and taste for different cultures. He was a very worldly man, and had been to pretty much every country you could ever think of wanting to go to.

I grinned at him as I walked into the room and he waved at me, dressed in a knit poncho, his skin a lot tanner than it had been the last time I had seen him. "_Hola, senorita Gilbert_," he said. "Greetings from Machu Picchu."

"Hi, Mr. West. How was your summer?" I asked.

He shrugged and waved his hand in the air. "So, so. Not as good as Budapest was, but hey." He shrugged again. "What can you do?"

"Well, good morning then, I guess," I said, taking the open seat next to my best friend, Anastasia Graham.

She turned to me and smiled softly, giving me a quick hug. "Sid! Hi," she said. "I missed you!"

I smiled ruefully and pulled away. "I'm sorry," I apologized. I had sort of disappeared off the face of the planet over the summer. Anastasia had respected my need for privacy and kept her distance, which I loved her all the more for- especially because I knew that it probably hadn't been the easiest thing for her to do. "But I'm here now, and I'm making it up to you tonight. We're all meeting up at the Grille for dinner. Wanna come? I can give rides."

Anastasia chuckled and rolled her blue eyes. "And by all, you mean…?"

"Me, Elena, Bonnie, Caroline, and you. If you're coming," I rattled off quickly.

"Then, I'm in," Anastasia said with a nod. "Pick me up at seven?"

"I'll be there," I told her.

Just as the bell rang, my phone buzzed with a text. Mr. West got to his feet and welcomed us to his class, and I discreetly pulled my phone out of my bag and checked it. One new text from Bonnie: **Hottie alert. And he's got his eyes on Elena.**

* * *

As they tended to be on the first day of school, our classes were pretty much the same thing over and over again: "Hi, welcome to boring, pointless class. My name is _generic teacher name that you'll never be able to pronounce or spell_. This class will be absolutely useless in your future, but you have to make an A in it or you'll never get into college, and I'm going to make it as hard for you as I possibly can. You'll probably have fifteen mental breakdowns before Thanksgiving break. Ninety-five-percent of modern highschoolers are under more stress than mental hospital patients in the 1950's. But hey, what do I care? I'm the teacher after all, so I automatically know everything!"

Luckily for me, it was my senior year, which meant I'd never have to hear any of this ever again. Except, perhaps, in college. But that was going to be stupendously different from high school, right?

Another thing that helped pass the time were Bonnie's constant updates on Elena and the new boy: some kid named Stefan Salvatore. Apparently, they had been making eyes at each other all morning, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. I knew Elena was moving on from our parents' deaths (or at least, that's what she wanted me to think), but I also wasn't sure if she was ready for a relationship again after her messy break-up with Matt. For that matter, I didn't think _Matt_ was ready for Elena to get a new boyfriend, either. But in the end, it was Elena's decision and I knew that I was going to support her no matter what. At the same time, I needed to find out more about this Stefan guy. Whoever he was.

"Tell me everything!" I demanded the second I sat down at the picnic table Bonnie and Elena had claimed for lunch. Anastasia tended to eat in the Orchestra classroom, my teammates crowded around the boys' soccer team, and Caroline usually went with a group of her other friends off campus, so it was just me, Elena and Bonnie most of the time.

Bonnie nodded eagerly and leaned forward, ignoring Elena's groan of exasperation. "Bonnie!" Elena exclaimed. "You told her?"

"What? It's not like she wasn't going to find out eventually," Bonnie scoffed.

Elena reddened and stared down at her hands, rubbing them together methodically. "Yeah, I know. But you probably made it out like Stefan and I proclaimed our undying devotion to each other, or something."

"You didn't?" I teased, raising my camera to my eye and taking a quick shot of the bustling parking lot. I glanced down at the screen and frowned. The picture was all blurry. Shaking my head, I set the camera aside and said, "Well? Spill, Bonnie!"

She nodded and glanced around furtively before saying, "His name is Stefan Salvatore. Just moved here from Seattle."

"You don't know that," Elena insisted sourly.

Bonnie shot her a glance. "Shut up, sweetie. We both know I'm right. I'm psychic, after all."

"Whatever you say, Bonnie," Elena mumbled. She bit down on a carrot stick and chewed with a grouchy frown wrinkling her blemish-free brow. Bonnie smiled triumphantly when Elena didn't say anything else, and turned back to me.

"Like I was saying," she continued. "He's gorgeous. And I mean gorgeous, Sid! Like, better than Ansel Elgort and Chris Pine."

"Get out," I gasped.

Bonnie nodded eagerly. "It's true," she insisted. "I could drown in those eyes. And that voice?" She sighed dramatically. "Like dark chocolate!"

I raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Dark chocolate?" I repeated. "Bonnie, are you sure you're feeling all right?"

She shot me a scathing look. "Oh hush, Sidney," she chided. "Anyways, this guy is watching Lena all day- and I mean _all day_. And there's a ton of sexual tension, and I'm just like, 'just screw each other already'!"

Elena gasped so hard she inhaled a carrot stick and started choking. Bonnie lunged over and smacked her back, hard, and the carrot popped out and rolled across the pavement of the courtyard. Elena wheezed and gulped down some water from her bottle. "Bonnie!" she screeched, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Bonnie shrugged. "What? It's true. I haven't seen that much love in a room since Tyler got that hand-mirror from Caroline's purse."

I snorted under my breath and unscrewed the cap of my Lipton iced tea, taking a long sip of it before looking at my younger sister imploringly. "Well?" I asked. "What do you think about all of this, Miss Elena?"

She opened her mouth to say something and then faltered, just staring at me for a minute before shaking her head and then glancing back down at her half-eaten lunch. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, he's hot and all, but I've barely talked to the guy. And his first impression of me probably wasn't the best."

"What's she talking about?" I whispered to Bonnie.

"He was walking into the boys' bathroom as she was walking out."

"Wait. What?" I said, glancing at Elena. "When and why were you in a boys' bathroom?"

Elena groaned again and shot a glare at Bonnie. "Why did you tell her that?" she demanded through gritted teeth, turning back to me with a sigh. "Look, it's… It's a long story. Just- just drop it, okay?"

I shrugged and took another sip of iced tea. "Fine," I said. "Is Mr. Tanner still PMSing like crazy?"

I let it drop for the moment. But, back then, if I had known what Stefan was bringing with him, I would have grabbed Elena and run screaming.

* * *

The second half of the day passed along the same tangent as the first, and before I knew it, the last bell was ringing and I was rushing out of my Honors European Literature class to meet up with Bonnie and Elena so I could take them home. The plan was for us to chill at our respective houses for a few hours before regrouping with Caroline and Anastasia for dinner at the Grille at seven. I was excited for some social interaction after spending practically the entire summer in isolation, and I knew Elena was too.

"Hey!" I called, spying Bonnie standing at the juncture between the Language Arts and Math hallways.

She turned and grinned when she spotted me, brushing an errant, shiny black curl behind her ear. "Sidney, hi," she said.

I smiled at her and then glanced around for my younger sister. "Where's Elena?" I asked when I couldn't spot her. "Didn't you say that you had Algebra 2 together?"

"About that…" Bonnie trailed off, raising her eyebrows at me sheepishly.

I sighed and started walking for my locker, Bonnie following along behind me. "She's visiting Mom and Dad again," I said, "isn't she?"

"Yeah," Bonnie said with a nod, watching as I grabbed the dial on my locker and yanked out the paper with the combination on it. "She told me to let you know. I was gonna walk home anyways, so you can go pick her up if you want. She said she'll wait until four if you need her to."

"No, no. It's fine." I frowned at my locker and tugged down on the latch, trying to open it. It didn't budge. "I just worry about her sometimes, ya' know?"

"I know." Bonnie nodded knowingly. "She spends a lot of time in the cemetery, but you just have to give her some space, Sid."

"Yeah, I guess. I just…" I sighed and slumped against my locker when it once again refused to open and reveal its secrets. "She's been so… so morbid lately, Bonnie. You know? It's like all she can think about is death and sadness, and I hate seeing her like that! She was so carefree and innocent before this all happened, and… and I…" I faltered.

What did I want for Elena? For all of this to never have happened? For her to go back to the vapid, naive, self-serving air-head she had been before this past spring? The truth was, I liked this side of Elena a lot more: The side that loved Edgar Allen Poe and Ernest Hemingway, and rushed into my room every now and then to read me some of a poem that she had just written. I liked this more mature side of her; I just wished she could learn to be happy while being responsible at the same time.

"I just want her to be happy again," I decided, reaching up to try and open my locker again.

Bonnie watched with an amused smile as I spun the dial again and tugged on the latch, only for it to refuse to swing open with an angry whine of metal. The tumblers on the dial clicked again, refusing to line up, and I groaned in exasperation, kicking the door with the toe of my boot. "This. Dang. Thing. Won't. Open!"

"Maybe I can help," a deep voice suggested.

I glanced up, cheeks burning, to see a guy I didn't recognize staring down at me with his thick eyebrows raised, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. His caramel-colored hair was tousled deliciously, and his brown eyes stared down at me in concern. I didn't know him. But whoever he was, he was hot.

"U- Um," I stuttered. "Sure." I stepped aside and the guy took the combination from me, reading it with a frown. "Be my guest."

Bonnie and I watched in impressed silence as the guy spun the dial a few times, somehow getting the numbers to line up with the gears of the lock, and pulled the latch. My locker whined again and whoever-he-was forced it open, smoothing out the hinges of the rusted door again. He grinned at us sheepishly and ran a hand through his already-messy hair. "There you go," he said.

I closed my mouth with a snap and glanced at him for a minute, seriously impressed. "Thanks," I said. I opened up my bag and stuffed my Literature book and Oceanography binder in the locker, taking out my Trig notebook instead.

"It's no problem," the guy said, sticking out a hand for me to shake. "I'm Stefan. Stefan Salvatore. I just moved here."

I blinked at him a few times, and then it hit me.

Mysterious new boy? Check. Extremely attractive? Check. Chivalry? Check. Magical voice that made every girl in a ten-mile radius swoon? Check.

This was the boy who had been staring at my younger sister all day.

I bit my lip and took Stefan's hand, making sure to grip it firmly. "I'm Sidney Gilbert," I said carefully, narrowing my eyes up at him. "Elena's older sister. Maybe you've met her. She's in your grade."

I hadn't meant for that to sound friendly. I had wanted to intimidate Stefan because I really didn't think Elena could handle any boy drama at the moment. But Stefan just chuckled and let go of my hand, saying, "It's nice to meet you, Sidney. And may I just say that your sister is very beautiful."

I shot Bonnie an incredulous glance over Stefan's leather-clad shoulder, but she just shrugged at me and mouthed, Told you so. She had been right. This Stefan guy really was something else. I hadn't thought there were still boys like him out there.

"Well, thanks for your help, Stefan," I said, closing my locker again and biting my lip. "But Elena's waiting for me. I should probably go."

Stefan nodded and took a step back, opening up a path for me to the front doors of the school. "Of course," he said. "Goodbye, Sidney. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm sure," I mumbled awkwardly. Was this guy for real? "Bye, Bonnie," I called, walking down the hall and out the door.

"Later, Sid!" I heard her yell.

I waved a hand over my head and then burst through the doors and into the sunshine, unable to stop myself from taking deep breaths of the fresh air and smiling up at the clear, blue sky. The weather channel that morning had predicted for rain, but I knew from experience that our meteorologists weren't to be trusted. I could still remember crying in disappointment at six years old when the white Christmas they had promised had turned out to be a fluke.

I made my way down the sidewalk until I was off-campus, dodging cars and bicycles as I turned the corner off of Main Street. I only slowed when the tall, black spires of the cemetery gate came into view. It had been four months, and I still hated being near this place. It just brought back too many bad memories. Besides, graveyards always had been creepy and always would be. It was just the way the world worked.

"Elena?" I called, reaching for the gate and pushing it. It swung open with a loud screech, and I saw a few of the crows that always crowded the cemetery take off with squawks of surprise.

My feet automatically found the familiar path to my parents' grave-site. It looked like the only one to be used for quite some time: The old cemetery was reserved for when members of the Founding Families died. It was a stupid tradition, but Gilbert graves as old as 1792 could be found here, and when my parents had passed that past Spring, this was where they had been buried.

Like I said, I hated going anywhere near the old graveyard. It was just plain creepy- especially in the more historic section, where the original Founders were buried, which was back near Fell's Church. This time though, the cemetery seemed a lot more foreboding than usual. It felt like the closer I got to the grave-site, the thicker the white fog became until it got to the point where I could barely see a foot in front of my face. I was seriously starting to get freaked out by this point.

"Elena!" I called again, a little bit louder this time. My voice sounded shaky. "Seriously, Lena. Where are you?"

I listened, but she didn't answer.

With a sigh, I let my bag slide off my shoulder and drop to the damp moss surrounding my parents' grave-site. I tried not to let my eyes flicker over to the names marking the headstone, but they did anyways.

**Here lies Jason and Miranda (Sommers ne) Gilbert. Loving parents and friends. 1962 (63)- 2011. Rest In Peace.**

There was this thick lump in the back of my throat and I forced myself to turn away. I didn't understand how Elena could put herself through this practically every day. Didn't it hurt her to see their names carved into a cold rock like that? Didn't it hurt her to see their long, full lives condensed into four, meaningless sentences? It definitely hurt me.

I bent down to pick up my bag and then turned, tears stinging at my eyes. Perched on the row of headstones directly in front of me was something black and feathery. It gave a loud cry, shocking me, and then took off into the mist. I screamed shrilly, stumbled a few steps back, and then succeeded in tripping over a stray stone and ended up sprawled out across the ground.

"You alright?" an amused voice asked me.

I glanced up and then flushed bright red. Standing over me was a lean, tall man with a mop of black hair. His jacket clung to his broad, sculpted shoulders like a cape of awesome, and dark jeans hugged his calves. I thought he might have been somewhere in his early twenties. Whoever he was, though, I hadn't seen him before. And in Mystic Falls, strangers were practically unheard of. Not to mention that I hadn't even heard him come up behind me, even if I had been distracted by that demon-crow.

"I'm fine," I said shortly, hopping to my feet, brushing moss and mud off the seat of my jeans. "I'm cool, I'm great, I'm… Who are you, again?"

The man grinned, a (what I thought was) calculating look in his eyes that I didn't think I liked all that much. "I'm Damon," he said simply. "You sure you're okay? It looked to me like you took a nasty fall a few seconds ago."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Thank you."

Damon shrugged. "If you say so." He stared at me for a few seconds with that calculating look, and I couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious in my too-small, green shirt and now-mud-covered jeans. I knew my hair was probably a fluffy mess, too. "What's your name?" he asked.

I bit my lip hesitantly and then said, "It's Sidney. I mean- I'm Sidney… Why are you here?"

"Can't a guy just walk around a historic graveyard if he wants to? Do I really have to have a reason?" Damon asked innocently.

"Yes, you do."

"And why, may I ask, is that?"

"Because if you don't that means you're suspicious, creepy, and probably some kind of criminal."

I was expecting for Damon to be offended, but instead, he tilted his head back and laughed for a few seconds. He looked at me again and grinned. "You're right," he said.

"About which part?" I asked uncertainly, thinking that maybe I was about to be murdered by a serial killer.

"This probably looks pretty suspicious to someone who doesn't know what's going on." Damon turned and started walking up the path again. "I'll see you around, Sidney. Try not to trip over the side of a bridge, or something."

I stared after him for a full minute, mouth agape, until the mist swallowed him up whole and I couldn't see him anymore. I wasn't quite sure what to think. This entire trip to the graveyard had been weird, freaky, and felt like something out of a bad, young-adult, paranormal-romance novel. I was suddenly reminded of why I hated coming to the cemetery in the first place.

"Sidney?" my younger sister's voice said from behind me.

I turned to see Elena limping up a ridge, the hem of her pants stained with mud and one leg rolled up so I could see the skinned knee she was sporting. She grimaced at me, and I gasped and rushed over to her.

"Elena, what happened?" I demanded with a concerned frown. I grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit on a fallen log, examining her knee anxiously.

"It's nothing, Sid," Elena said. She got to her feet again, waving off my administrations, and let the leg of her jeans drop back around her ankle. "I'll just put some Peroxide on it when we get home. It's fine. I just thought I saw something by Fell's Church so I went down to check it out. I tripped and fell. That's all."

I was still suspicious, but I knew better than to probe Elena when she was in one of her moods. "If you say so," I muttered, casting one last look around the graveyard. "Come on," I finally said. "Let's get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps."

Elena nodded and got to her feet. "I couldn't agree more."

And together, we got the heck out of that place as fast as we could.


	2. Stefan Salvatore

**Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 2: Stefan Salvatore  
A/N: If you're looking for some background music, go check out Do It All Again by Chris Wallace. Great song and great artist!**

* * *

"It was so weird, 'Stasia," I complained into my cell phone that evening, rooting through my closet for something to wear. My shirt had been stained with mud and grass at the graveyard that afternoon, and I needed to change before meeting up with everyone for dinner. Only problem was, I couldn't quite seem to find the right top to wear. It was laundry day, after all, and I wasn't exactly known for my organizational skills.

I could hear Anastasia shuffling papers in the background. She was probably going through her collection of saved newspaper articles again. "That does sound pretty strange," she finally said. "Why were you in the old cemetery, anyway? I thought you hated that place."

"I do," I said hurriedly. "But Elena was there again and she needed a ride home, so…"

Anastasia hummed under her breath. I heard papers shuffling again. "Yeah, okay. Just stay away from there from now on, yeah?"

I nodded, and then remembered she couldn't see me, so I said, "Yeah. You still need a ride to the Grille?"

"Mm hm," she hummed. "You're supposed to be picking me up at seven. Can you still do that, or…?"

"No, no. I can still pick you up," I said hurriedly. "See you in ten?"

"See you in ten," Anastasia agreed.

My thumb pressed down on the end call button and I hung up, flinging the phone away from me and rooting through my closet again. I finally emerged with my favorite white, lace shirt clutched in my hands, and smiled triumphantly. "Success," I muttered, pulling it over my head.

I flipped my hair out from under the shirt's neckline and grabbed my jacket and purse. A quick glance at the clock on my phone told me I had to pick Anastasia up in seven minutes, and I called, "Elena!" before hopping down the stairs and bumping into her on the first-floor landing.

"Sid," she said, steadying herself. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," I muttered, distracted, firing off a quick reply to a text from Caroline. She had wanted to make sure we were still doing dinner that night. "How about you? Did you get permission from Aunt Jenna?"

Elena nodded and then grinned. "She said we can go, but curfew is ten. It's a school night, after all. Can't stay out too late."

I chuckled and slipped my phone back into my purse. "Well done, Aunt Jenna," I laughed. "Look at her acting all responsible. I'm impressed."

I could see Elena trying to fight off a smile. "Okay, okay," she finally relented. "You're right. It is pretty weird that she's trying to be a good guardian all of a sudden. But you have to give her some credit."

"I never said I didn't," I reminded her, hitching the strap of my dark purple purse higher up on my shoulder. "Anyways. We need to get moving. I promised 'Stasia we'd pick her up in five, and she lives across town. Let's go."

Elena nodded in agreement and moved to get her cross-body bag, but before she could grab it off the decorative table in the foyer, the doorbell rang. We exchanged a confused- and slightly wary- glance as I moved to open the door. We weren't expecting anyone, and as far as I knew, Jenna was working on her essay that night and Jeremy was out with friends. And the last time we'd gotten an unexpected visitor… it had been the police, come to tell Jeremy and I that our parents' car had just been found in the river under Wickery Bridge and that Elena was in the hospital.

I opened the door and took a step back in surprise. Stefan Salvatore was standing on our front porch, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, brow furrowed as he grinned up at me with slightly sheepish, dark brown eyes.

"Um, hi," I said, recovering quickly. "Can I help you?"

Elena peered over my shoulder (I was taller than her by about three inches) and frowned. "Stefan?" she asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"Um…" Stefan shifted his weight and then grinned awkwardly. On most boys, that grin would have seemed dorky and uncool. But Stefan somehow made it look adorable. I was suddenly struck with a burst of inexplicable jealousy towards Elena.

Stefan pulled a hand out of his pocket and presented us with a familiar-looking book: green, leather-bound with slightly water-logged pages. Elena had a bad habit of trying to journal while taking one of her infamously long baths. "You left this in the cemetery this afternoon," he said to my sister. "I thought you'd like it back."

Elena gasped happily and grabbed the book with a smile. "My journal! I've been looking for this everywhere. Thanks for giving it back to me."

I bit my lip and chewed methodically, suspicious. What had Stefan been doing in the cemetery? Following me? And how had he known where we lived? Yeah, this was a pretty small town, and it probably wasn't that hard to go up to someone and just ask, but it was still pretty creepy. He had been here for all of one day. Who would have given him our address?

"So…" I trailed off, knowing this was probably going to be a very rude thing to ask but not particularly caring if I offended Stefan or not. "You just so happened to find a teenage girl's diary in a cemetery… and you didn't read it?"

"Sidney!" Elena hissed. She stomped down- hard- on my foot, and I swallowed down a yelp, tears springing to my eyes. Forget cheerleading. With leg-power like that, Elena had a very bright career as a professional soccer player ahead of her. I'm serious: That girl could kick!

Stefan just shook his head. "It's no problem," he told Elena. "I'd be suspicious too." He looked at me and nodded. I got the feeling he respected me, for whatever reason, and that stroked my ego a bit. "And no, I didn't read it. I have a journal of my own, so I know how important privacy is. I'd never invade someone's personal thoughts like that."

Elena looked like she was about to swoon. She hugged her diary to her chest, cleared her throat, and then blushed. "I'm…" She made eye-contact with Stefan and blushed even harder, if that was even possible. "I'm going to go put this away. Um…" She cast one last glance at Stefan and then rushed up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving the two of us. Alone.

Now, I may have been a rather sociable person, but even I had difficulties with small talk; especially when I didn't know the person very well, which was the case with Stefan. Not to mention I didn't like him all that much. He was just too… creepy, I guess. I didn't trust him yet, even if he did respect me. And I certainly didn't trust him with my little sister.

I turned to Stefan and cleared my throat awkwardly. "Uh…" I said. "Would you- would you like to come inside, or something?"

He looked affronted and immediately took a step back. "No," he denied hastily. "No, really, I'm perfectly fine out here."

My eyes narrowed and I took a step back, angling my body so he could see inside the house. "Really, I insist," I told him with a nod.

Stefan hesitated for a minute, and then took a slow, uncertain step through the door. I watched him in confusion. What did he think was going to happen? That I was going to karate kick him straight back out onto the porch?

Stefan cleared his throat once he was safely inside the entrance hall and glanced around. He took in the scented candles that Mom had been obsessed with before the accident, the family pictures that hung over the staircase, and Jeremy's paintings that had been framed and were decorating the walls. Stefan grinned and turned to me, shoving his hands in his pockets again. "You have a lovely home," he told me.

"Thanks." I nodded simply and crossed my arms, surveying him warily. "Um… How are you liking Mystic Falls so far?" I asked, in an attempt to be cordial. "I heard something about you being a military kid?"

"Yeah," Stefan said quickly. "No- yeah! It's, uh… It's been great so far. I really like it here. I grew up here, and it's nice to be home again for a little while."

"You know," I commented dryly, "I've never met a military kid before."

"Hm. And why is that?" Stefan asked. He looked distracted. His eyes were darting across the upstairs landing, probably looking for Elena. What was taking her so long, anyways?

I shook my head and bit my lip, saying, "Because as far as I know, there isn't a military base around here."

For a minute, I thought Stefan looked surprised. But before I could be totally sure, a door from upstairs opened and Elena rushed back down to us, her cheeks flushed and her favorite brown cardigan pulled securely over her inky purple tank top. When I looked closer, I saw that she had brushed her hair out again and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss. I wasn't really sure how I felt about that.

She came to a stop in front of Stefan and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Look," she said bluntly. "Sidney and I are meeting up with friends at the Grille for dinner. You're welcome to come, you know… If you want, that is."

I didn't want Stefan to come. He was new and weird and quite honestly, just plain freaked me out. There was just something off about him that I didn't like; I knew it was weird, but Stefan just seemed… dangerous. But I guess no one else got that from him. That worried me. I thought I was maybe just being paranoid.

Stefan grinned and nodded. His hands were in his pockets again. "Of course," he said. "I'd love to go. That is…" He turned to me. "If your sister doesn't mind."

Elena stared at me with wide, pleading brown eyes, and I stifled a growl, dragging my teeth across my bottom lip in irritation. I couldn't say no, and I got the feeling that Stefan knew that. So I said, "Um, sure. I mean, I guess."

"Great!" Elena said happily. "Come on, then. We need to pick Anastasia up, don't we?"

Stefan and I followed Elena out the front door and down the driveway to my Toyota, and I climbed into the driver's seat with a grumpy scowl. Seeing Elena smile like that somehow made it okay that Stefan was coming along. If it made her happy, I could deal with it. But that didn't mean that I had to like him. If anything, this entire affair had made me even more distrustful of him.

I started up the car and backed down the driveway, trying to ignore how Elena and Stefan had crowded into the backseat and cozied up together. A part of me wanted to tell them that that was Bonnie's seat, and Elena belonged up front, riding shotgun next to me, but I kept my mouth shut and tried to focus on driving.

"I noticed a copy of _Emma_ on the table in your entrance hall," Stefan commented a few seconds later as we turned out of the neighborhood and took a left toward the outskirts of town. "Who reads the classics?"

Elena gasped and turned to Stefan with bright, excited eyes. "You read Jane Austen?" she asked hopefully.

Stefan nodded, grinning again, and said, "Of course. She's an incredible novelist. I love her work!"

And in that moment, I knew Elena was a goner. She was a sucker for three things, and three things only: Pretty boys, Italian food, and classic literature. If Stefan made her a bowl of spaghetti, I had the feeling she'd marry him on the spot.

The rest of the short car ride was an absolute bore for me and an absolute joy for Elena and Stefan. I felt a bit like a hired chauffeur as I drove to Anastasia's dad's house, listening to the almost-couple debate the pros and cons of Charlotte Bronte and Charles Dickens, and compare Jay Gatsby to the Phantom of the Opera. It was aggravating to say the least. There was a reason I took Honors Language Arts, and not AP. I was honestly more of a History and culture person, whereas Elena kicked butt in English and Math. We both sucked at Science, which was a bit of a relief.

We finally pulled up to Anastasia's dad's house: a three-story colonial with a wrap-around porch. The building was painted a greyish blue, and was like a second home to me. I honked the horn and Anastasia darted out, her blonde hair in disarray.

"It's chilly!" she told me as she climbed into the passenger seat, drawing her fuzzy sweater closer around her chest. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry," I apologized. "We had an… unexpected addition."

"Unexpected add-" Anastasia started to repeat, then froze up when she laid eyes on Stefan, who grinned at her from the backseat.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Stefan Salvatore."

"Um, I'm..." Anastasia tucked her hair behind her ears, not meeting Stefan's eyes. She always got like this around people she didn't know very well. "I'm Anastasia Graham. Nice to meet you."

"How were rehearsals today?" I asked, remembering what she'd told me about them in Economy and Government earlier that afternoon. "Did you get that solo down?"

Anastasia grinned slightly and nodded as I backed down her driveway and started back up the street into main town. "Yes- finally! I really hate Bach sometimes, you know."

"Anastasia plays piano," Elena explained to Stefan, who'd had an eyebrow raised. "She's really good. Best in the orchestra. We go to see her recitals a lot of the time."

I hummed an agreement, rhythmically scraping my teeth against my bottom lip as we pulled up to the traffic light the next block over from The Grille.

"Do you play a lot of Mozart?" Stefan asked, in what was probably an attempt to make conversation, but Anastasia just nodded, staring steadily at the road. She really was too skittish for her own good.

"I hate Mozart," Elena mumbled. "Jazz, please."

I snorted, keeping my eyes on the road. "You're such a music snob."

"Oh, like you aren't?" Elena scoffed. "Miss Katy-Perry-is-too-main-stream?"

"She is though!" I insisted.

"You're turning into a hipster," Elena informed me.

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, pulling up outside the front entrance to the Grille and sending Elena a pointed look in the rear view mirror. "Go ahead and grab a table, will you? Anastasia, you mind parking the car with me?"

Anastasia didn't mind and relaxed back into her seat once Stefan and Elena had gotten out. I pulled into the first available parking spot there was and locked her up, stuffing the keys securely into my purse as we strolled through the Grille doors. Unfortunately enough, (or fortunately- I couldn't really decide) I was so distracted by putting my keys away that I didn't notice someone else trying to get through the doors and managed to bump right into them. I skittered back a few steps, eyes wide, and then smiled sheepishly when I saw who I had run into.

"Hey, sorry," I apologized, a bright red flush probably growing across my freckled face.

Andrew Deveraux grinned slightly at me and then shrugged. "It's no problem," he excused, glancing around to see Anastasia standing over my shoulder. "Hey 'Stasia, Sid. "

"Hey," I repeated again in a high-pitched voice.

Andrew shot me a weird look before glancing back at Anastasia. "I take it you two are here to hang out?" he asked, and I nodded rapidly. "Cool. I'm meeting Colin and some of the guys from the wrestling team for dinner. I think Sutter and Corbin are coming too. You guys are welcome to join us you know, if you want."

I was tempted- like, _really _tempted- to take Andrew up on his offer. I'd had a crush on him for practically forever, after all. I knew Anastasia wanted to agree, too- Andrew's best friend, Colin Fredrickson always managed to make her blush even more than she usually did. My spur of the moment urges were interrupted, however, when a grinning Caroline rushed up to us in her usual flurry and cried, "Sid! Anastasia!" before she saw the state of my reddened face and smirked mischievously. "Hey, Andrew," she drawled with a knowing look in my direction. "What are you doing here?"

"Caroline," Andrew acknowledged with a nod. "Just meeting with some friends. I thought Sidney and 'Stasia might want to join us."

"Oh, that's too bad." Caroline pouted satirically, looping an elbow each through Anastasia's and my arms. "I kinda have dibs on these two for tonight, but they're going to be free at the back-to-school bonfire at the Falls tomorrow…" she trailed off suggestively.

"I might have to take you up on that," Andrew said with a grin as we meandered into the Grille. "See ya." He lifted a hand over his shoulder as he walked over to a table crowded with his waiting friends, and I waited until he was out of ear-shot before squealing and throwing myself at Caroline.

"Caroline Forbes," I cried, "you are a goddess!"

She laughed and squeezed me back before taking a step away and searching the crowded restaurant for the others. "Don't I know it. It's about time you figured that out." Her eyes landed on Bonnie, waving at us with a smile, and she tugged Anastasia over to the table, me following along behind.

"Hey guys," Bonnie said with a relaxed grin. She patted the open seat next to her and Caroline slid in. Anastasia perched between her and Elena, and I was left with the chair between Bonnie and Stefan. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, nothing," Caroline demurred, already peeling open the menu. "Just that Andrew Deveraux was chatting up Sid is all."

"Caroline!" I hissed, trying to hide my bright red face.

"Wait, what?" Bonnie demanded excitedly, leaning across her chair to talk to me. "Andrew as in the guy who used to throw mud at you in second grade?"

"It's nothing!" I insisted. "Seriously, guys, just leave it."

"If you say so," Bonnie muttered knowingly, but Elena shot me one of her patented 'I'm-hearing-about-this-later-so-we-can-squeal-girlishly-together' looks and I knew I wasn't getting off that easy. I should have known. Elena always got so unreasonably excited on the rare occasion that I had a crush on someone, probably because it didn't happen that often. I'd had only two boyfriends so far; one in seventh grade, which didn't really count, and one my sophomore year that had only lasted for around two weeks.

"Caroline," I said quickly, trying to change the subject, "have you met Stefan yet?"

"I haven't, actually," she said with a sunny smile, sticking her hand out for Stefan to shake. "Hi. I'm Caroline Forbes."

"Nice to meet you," Stefan said awkwardly, squeezing her hand for a minute before letting go and glancing at Elena.

Caroline's eyes narrowed at the action, and she smiled again, folding her menu back up and propping her chin up on her folded hands. I knew this stance: this was the Caroline-Forbes-wants-gossip stance. "So, Stefan," she probed. "I heard that you were born here in Mystic Falls?"

Of course she would have found out everything she could about the mysterious-but-hot new guy at Mystic Falls High School. We didn't get new kids very often (let alone extremely attractive ones) and something told me Elena was going to have a bit of competition for the dapper Stefan's affections. Not that I could blame Caroline, really. If Stefan were a year older- and not smitten with my little sister- I'd probably be going for him, too

Stefan looked a little taken aback, but was quick to reply with an affirmative, "My family- er, moved here when I was three."

Somehow, I didn't quite believe him, and I didn't think Caroline did either, but she motored on anyways. "Parents?" she asked next, rapid-fire.

"My parents passed away," Stefan answered uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Elena and I and then back at Caroline. Something in my throat curdled. _He knew_.

I coughed roughly and pretended to text someone on my phone, even though the only people I ever really texted (besides my soccer teammates, but they were all busy that night, so…) were sitting around the table. "I'm sorry," I finally muttered, glancing back up at Stefan. "How about your siblings? Any brothers? Sisters?"

"None that I talk to," Stefan muttered. "I'm living with my Uncle Zach at the old Salvatore Boarding House. It's nice."

"Ooh!" Bonnie spazzed out suddenly, drumming her fingers against the table-top. "I heard from Corbin Baker that the Boarding House is haunted by all the people who've died there! Stefan, have you heard anything weird, run into any ghosts, maybe?" Bonnie said all of this with a playful smirk on her face, so we all knew she was just joking, but Stefan still looked a little uncomfortable.

"Not that I've seen, no," he said, relaxing slightly when a tall girl who had graduated a few years ago and I should probably know the name of but didn't walked up to us.

"Hi, welcome to the Mystic Grille. I'm Alyssa," she introduced herself with an uncaring twitch of her lips. "Are you ready to order? Tonight's special is our Philly Cheesesteak with fries."

Caroline sneered slightly, still staring down at her menu. She cleared her throat and set it aside with a sunny smile. "Um, yeah, I'm good. I'll have a Coke and a grilled chicken salad please?"

"Cheese fries and Sprite," Bonnie said quickly, snatching up Caroline's menu and folding it with hers on the table. "And Elena's going to have a meatball sub with a Coke."

"I could've ordered for myself, you know," she muttered, setting her menu on top of the growing stack.

"Iced tea and a pepperoni personal pan pizza," Anastasia said next, her face twisted as she tried to speak around the tongue-twister.

I grinned at her and handed my menu to Alyssa. "Iced tea, please."

Stefan glanced at me for a second before he turned to Alyssa with a winning smile and said, "I'll have some water and a burger, please. Medium rare."

"Mm hmm," Alyssa dead-panned. "I'll be right back with your drinks." She sauntered off and Stefan glanced at me again.

"Not hungry?" he asked, raising those thick, attractive eyebrows of his. I didn't know why, but I'd always noticed people's eyebrows. It was just one of those weird quirks of mine.

I shrugged, playing with the paper wrapper of my straw. "Not really. I've been feeling kinda sick lately, actually." What I didn't say was that I'd barely been able to keep anything down ever since the marathon of binge-drinking the night of my parent's funeral and the subsequent projectile vomiting that had followed and landed me in the hospital for alcohol poisoning.

"Have you tried hot tea?" Stefan suggested, and when I shook my head he continued, "It always helps when I have a stomach ache. I can give you some of my favorite kind if um- if you'd like."

I smiled toothily at him and said, "Sure, Stefan. That'd be great." He really was a sweet guy. I still didn't trust him one-hundred-percent, for whatever reason; it was weird but I didn't.

I'd always had this weird sort of sixth sense about people, and while it didn't make a whole lot of sense, it had never steered me wrong before and I doubted it would now. Either way, Stefan was a nice guy. Weird and mysterious? Yes, but also very nice.

"So, Stefan," Caroline called, pulling the attention back in her direction, "since you're new you probably haven't heard about the back-to-school bonfire at the Falls tomorrow night.

Bonnie laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's an annual thing," she explained. "Kinda tradition for the new senior spirit squad leader to throw it every year when school starts up again in the fall. Corbin Baker's in charge this year, so it's so going to be awesome. You should come with us! Everyone goes- even Anastasia!"

"H-hey!" she cried, jerking her head up from the glowing screen of her phone, one of our unlimited bread sticks hanging from between her lips. "It's not like I'm a hermit or something. I go out… sometimes."

"Yeah, only when I drag you away from your house kicking and screaming," I said, popping my phone in and out of its case. I had gotten it with Anastasia at our favorite boutique the weekend before when we had gone back-to-school shopping together. It was black with white and yellow daisies on it and I was already sick of it. My phone cases tended to change every other week.

Stefan hadn't taken his eyes away from Elena once, and I saw Bonnie and Caroline exchange a knowing (and slightly exasperated) look. "Are you going?" he asked.

"She'll be there!" Bonnie said quickly, lunging across the table to squeeze Elena's shoulders tightly. "Won't you, Elena?"

"Um…" She stared at Bonnie in confusion for a second before understanding dawned and she whipped back around to face Stefan. "Yes! Um, yeah, I'll be there."

"Then I guess I have to go," he said with a self-assured smile, making Caroline kick me under the table and Bonnie squeal silently and shrilly. Anastasia just smiled at me from across the table and raised an eyebrow.

* * *

"Stefan's sweet," she told me over the phone later that night after we had all left the Grille and gotten home. "I think he'll be good with Elena."

"Whoa, whoa, what?" I asked, hands freezing over the buttons of my camera. I had been scrolling through it, looking at pictures from dinner that night. "_With_ Elena? What makes you think that's going to be a thing?"

"Um, they were making goo goo eyes at each other all night, Sid," Anastasia explained like I was an idiot. "It's kinda obvious that they like each other… yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. "Wait, no! No, they don't- Okay, yes, maybe they _do_ like each other," I admitted grudgingly, floundering to come up with a viable argument. "That means absolutely nothing. Elena's not ready for a relationship right now. She said so herself."

"When?" Anastasia asked. "Wasn't that like, a month ago?"

"Okay, yes." I set my camera aside and rolled onto my back on the bed, kicking at the ceiling with my bare feet. "But you know how stubborn Elena is. It takes forever to change her mind."

"You just don't want to admit that she's finally starting to move on with her life," Anastasia accused bluntly.

That made me stop short. I froze up and rolled back onto my stomach, my mouth dropping open to form a perfect circle. I snapped it shut again and chewed on my lower lip robotically. Was she right? Was I really just bitter about Elena moving on from our parents' deaths when I couldn't? Or was I bitter about the fact that she was turning to someone else for comfort that I had previously provided?

"I…" I choked on my words and made a rough grumbling sound in the back of my throat, licking my lips nervously and then biting down. I cleared my throat and curled up in a sitting position. "I don't know, 'Stasia. Maybe you're right," I admitted reluctantly.

Anastasia hummed something breathily. It sounded like Beethoven, but I could have been (and probably was) wrong. "Did I like… hurt your feelings again? I'm sorry if I did, I didn't mean-"

"No, 'Stasia, no it's cool. It's fine, it's okay, it's…" I interrupted before she could go off on another one of her self-bashing, apologetic tangents that always ended with me having to give her a pep talk to make her feel better about herself and realize she wasn't on the same level of mean-ness and all-around disgusting-ness as Severus Snape and Dolores Umbridge.

"You're sure?" she asked in a concerned voice.

"I'm sure," I told her in a dead-pan. "Seriously, 'Stasia, you need to be more confident. Stop apologizing for everything all the time. You're fine."

"Sorry," she repeated, a little more quietly this time. "What was up with you and Andrew?"

The effect of the A-word was immediate: A cherry red flush blossomed across my freckled cheeks and nose and I grabbed a pillow from my bed and buried my face in it. My heart pounded more rapidly in my chest and a warm, fluffy, cotton candy feeling rose in my throat.

"Nothing," I squeaked.

"Sure." Anastasia giggled girlishly, making me smile. "It didn't look like that to me. And Caroline set you up to meet up with him at the party tomorrow night, didn't she?"

I gasped and jumped from my bed, cradling my phone against my shoulder as I dove over to my closet and started riffling through it. "Oh my gosh, I nearly forgot! How could I forget? And what am I going to wear?"

"Calm down," Anastasia told me around soft laughter.

"I can't!" I stared at a flowy, royal blue shirt for a minute before shaking my head and tossing it over my shoulder. "It's _Andrew_. I'm going to be meeting _Andrew Deveraux _at a party tomorrow night, and I have absolutely no idea what to wear." I sighed and rocked my weight back onto my heels. "I suck at stuff like this."

"Don't ask me for help." I was pretty sure Anastasia had just shrugged. "I'm even worse at this stuff than you are."

I sighed again and glanced at the alarm clock that sat on top of my bedside table. "We'd better go, 'Stasia. It's already eleven o'clock," I said mournfully.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow," Anastasia answered. "Love you. Goodnight."

"Love ya' too," I told her with a slight grin. "Night."

* * *

"_Fifty-six bottles of beer on the wall, fifty-six bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around. Fifty-six… Fifty-seven… Fifty-five bottles of pop… of beer… of… Ah, screw it." With a heavy breath, I lifted the almost empty bottle of whiskey to my lips and let the hollow-tasting, sharp liquid splash down my throat. I twisted my mouth at the rancid flavor and coughed slightly, tossing the bottle over my shoulder and listening numbly to the clang as it bounced off of the oak tree I was sitting against._

_The dirt felt warm and damp against my bare thighs, my demure black dress bunched up around my hips and pelvis. My classy pumps had long since been abandoned somewhere in the woods when I had made the trek out there, Dad's private stash in tow. While I usually opted to stray more towards the modest side, the alcohol had chipped away at my morals until I didn't really care one way or another. Besides, it wasn't like there was anyone around to see me. I was sure someone would come out in search of me soon enough (the wake was still going on, after all… At least, I thought it was. I wasn't really keeping track of time at the moment) but right then, it was just me and Jack Daniels._

_At least that's what I thought. From the trees to my left there was a rustling sound and the snap of a stick breaking. I frowned and turned in the direction the sound had come from, calling in a slurred voice, "Hello? Is there anyone there?" _

_There wasn't any answer, but I heard another rustle and unsteadily got to my feet, swaying from the effects of the alcohol. I may have been drunk out of my mind at the moment, but something just didn't feel right about this situation. The hair on the back of my neck was standing straight up, and my stomach churned unpleasantly- and not just because of the whiskey. _

"_Hello?" I tried again. "Seriously. If you're there, come out." _

"_If you say so," a sort-of familiar man's voice answered. I squinted hard and saw a man that I recognized emerge from the tightly-knit tree line. With stunning and sudden clarity, I realized who it was- Damon, the man I had met in the graveyard. Only… it wasn't. Deep, rich red dripped from his mouth, pulled back around sharp white fangs, and spilled across his white shirt and luxurious leather jacket. His eyes had been stained yellow and inky black stretched through the veins on his face. _

_I gasped in horrified awe and stumbled a few paces back; he matched me step for step. "Damon…" I trailed off in terrified wonder. "What… What happened to you?" _

"_What happened to you, Siddie? Wasting yourself away by drinking yourself to death in the woods, all by your lonesome?" He shook his head, even as a cruel smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "It's pathetic." Damon's smirk grew as an idea came to him. "I should put you out of your misery." _

"_Out of my misery?" I repeated. "What does that even-"_

_Damon didn't wait for me to finish. With an animalistic snarl he lunged and, seizing me roughly by the shoulders, plunged his fangs into my neck._

* * *

I woke up screaming in terror, sweat and nearly-dried tears dripping from my face and turning my bed into a tangled mass of sheets and burning heat. My chest rose and fell in hard thumps as I gained my bearings, slowly beginning to realize that it was just a dream. Mom and Dad's funeral had been over three months ago, I hadn't had so much of a sip of alcohol since then, and there were no such things as vampires.

"No such thing," I told myself, holding my head in my hands. "There is absolutely no such thing as vampires. They're not real."

So why was the adrenaline still racing through my veins like liquid electricity?

With pants coming out of my mouth like fluttering sheets of paper, I unsteadily wriggled out of bed and stumbled over to my bedroom door. What I needed was a glass of water and maybe a Tums to calm me down. That should do it. No more nightmares, no more vampires. I'd be cool. I'd be totally cool.

If I had seen the crow perched on the branch outside my window, staring after me as I pushed through the door, I would have known that I was not going to be totally cool. In fact, I was about to be in more danger than I had ever even dreamed was possible.


	3. Dream Boy

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 3: Dream Boy**

**A/N: I have one thing and one thing only to say to you: Spotlight by Mutemath. Look it up and listen to it. That song may be on the Twilight soundtrack, but it's also really freaking good! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments!**

* * *

"God, I hate littles," I groaned, staring down at the list Anastasia had plunked on the computer table in front of me in dismay.

She shrugged in commiseration and tapped the line with our names marked under it. "There's no helping it, Sid," she told me quietly. "Besides, you're the one who signed us up to volunteer this year."

I frowned moodily and tipped back in my seat, attracting an eyebrows-raised glance from Mr. West from his desk at the front of the computer lab. "Yeah, but I didn't think we would get stuck making cotton candy for three hours," I intoned.

"Yearbook runs the cotton candy booth at every event," Anastasia explained slowly. "I thought you knew that when you signed us up."

I groaned again and sunk my head down onto my desk. Anastasia and I had been members of the Yearbook Committee for three years now: me as a photographer and her as an editor. You'd think we would have signed up to work an event for Yearbook at some point during our time at Mystic Falls High School, but I was usually the one taking pictures of the night and Anastasia didn't like doing things alone, so it had just never really happened. I wasn't very good with kids either, and they were always guaranteed to be swarming the cotton candy booth, so I doubted the Night of the Comet Festival was going to be very much fun for me.

According to Mr. Tanner, our asshole of an American History teacher, the city Arts and Entertainment Council had decided to host a candlelit festival in honor of the comet that would be making an appearance in the sky that Wednesday night. Apparently this was some kind of astronomical rarity, as the comet only appeared once every hundred or so years. The Council had asked a few of the clubs at the high school to help with the festival, and unfortunately enough, Yearbook was one of them.

"Let's stop talking about this," I pleaded, raising my head up again and biting my lip. "Please?"

Anastasia shrugged again; she had been doing that a lot lately, I had noticed. "Sure. Can you give me a ride to the Falls tonight?"

"I always do," I said with a cheeky grin for good measure. "You seriously need to get a car," I teased. "I'm getting pretty sick of being your chauffeur."

Anastasia turned bright red and whacked me on the arm with her rolled-up sheet music for the Orchestra concert that was coming up in the next few weeks. "Shut up, Sidney Elizabeth Gilbert! You offer to give me rides, _and_ I always give you gas money."

I twisted slightly so she couldn't hit me anymore and snickered. "Have you figured out what you're wearing tonight?"

Anastasia had begun clacking away on the keyboard of her computer, composing an email to the rest of the Yearbook staff, but she paused at my question and turned to face me with a confused look on her face. "Um, yeah," she said like I was an idiot. "Why?"

I couldn't really blame her for being so confused. The two of us didn't typically talk that much about clothes and hair and makeup- except for when we were shopping- and we'd never actually checked to see what each other was wearing before we went somewhere. This was majorly out of character for me, but that night… well, I couldn't really help it.

I shrugged. "No reason. Just curious."

Anastasia's eyes widened and she glanced around the crowded computer lab before turning back to me with a faint smirk pasted across her lips. "You just want to impress Andrew," she accused, "don't you?"

"Pssht. No," I snorted. "I was just curious is all."

The truth was, Anastasia was right: I _did_ want to impress Andrew- like, _really_ wanted to impress him. You can hardly blame me though! I'd been drooling over the boy for nearly five years now, and the amazing, wonderful Caroline Forbes had set me up to meet him at a party that could maybe possibly hopefully turn into a date, that could maybe possibly hopefully turn into a relationship, that could maybe possibly hopefully turn into an engagement, that could maybe possibly hopefully turn into a marriage filled with crazy-hot sex and three children and a small cottage in Scotland where we could retire with our two pugs named Cosmo and Dolly.

You get the picture.

* * *

Unfortunately enough, the whole impress-Andrew-with-my-awesome-looks thing wasn't working out too well for me when I attempted to get ready for the party that evening.

"Ugh!" I groaned, tossing another shirt that was too small across my bedroom and onto the rapidly growing pile on the window seat. "I have nothing to wear!"

Bonnie snorted at me from the Jack-and-Jill bathroom I shared with Elena, busy perfecting her already bouncy, black curls. "I'd offer to help, but… I doubt anything I have would be big enough for you."

I shot her reflection in the bathroom mirror a surly scowl and crossed my arms. "Not cool, Bonnie," I intoned. She knew how self-conscious I was about my larger-than-average chest. The boobs had popped up practically overnight six months ago, and I had been torn between loving them and hating them ever since. Right about then, I was in one of my how-much-would-a-boob-reduction-cost phases.

"Hey, I'm not making fun," Bonnie told me, setting the curling wand down and switching it off. "I'd kill to have your problem. Some of us can get away with using Band-Aids for bras, you know. Use the breasts to your advantage, Sid."

"Now you sound like Caroline," I mused, narrowing my eyes at her.

Elena came waltzing out of her bedroom then, clad in her favorite jacket and the only pair of designer jeans she owned. Her hair had already been flat ironed, but she hadn't done her makeup yet. She smiled nervously at us and struck a pose. "Well?" she probed. "How do I look?"

"Hot," Bonnie cheered with a gratuitous smile. "Seriously, Elena, you look great!"

I nodded in agreement. "Ten ten would bang," I joked, causing her to flush indignantly and lob her hairbrush at my head. "Okay! Okay!" I laughed. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. Really though, I'm impressed. You're gorgeous."

"Stefan's going to be drooling," Bonnie added.

Elena flushed again and shook her head. "I didn't do this for Stefan," she insisted, even though Bonnie and I knew the truth. "I did it for me. I wanted to look good tonight, so I did… And I feel pretty good, too. I'm ready to party."

I stared at Elena for a moment before nodding slowly and beginning to rifle through my closet again. I knew Elena was probably pretty nervous about this; the two of us hadn't been to a party, much less a bonfire, since the night of the accident. My excitement over meeting Andrew had made me forget for a while, but I could feel the anxiety slowly starting to trickle back into the forefront of my mind. With a heavy sigh, I grabbed a silky, royal blue top from off its hanger and pulled it over my head without further ado. My previous excitement over the not-a-date was pretty much gone now, which sucked.

"You guys ready to go?" I asked, shaking my head to clear it of the negative thoughts Elena had forbidden yesterday morning.

She stared at me knowingly and smiled, nodding. "I'm good," she said. "Bonnie?"

Bonnie was ready too, and the three of us chatted our way into my car and out of the neighborhood, stopping briefly at the Graham house to pick up Anastasia, who looked cute in leggings and the green and navy flannel shirt she had borrowed from me a week ago, before we started the bumpy ride up to the pavilion at the Falls where the bonfire was held every year. I was glad it wasn't at the lookout point, where the last bonfire had been, because this way we didn't have to cross Wickery Bridge. I doubted Elena (or I, for that matter) would be able to handle it tonight.

The log pavilion and the campsite surrounding it was already bustling by the time we arrived, Christmas lights and colored lanterns strung up between the rafters. A bonfire was blazing in the center of the dirt clearing, flames licking up and spewing orange and red sparks into the clear night sky. The infamous waterfall that had given Mystic Falls its name gushed down from the cliffs, and the foot bridge that crossed it had been decorated with fairy lights and making-out couples. Our classmates were already swarming the clearing, grinding and dancing and laughing and talking, raising beers to the sky and toasting the new school year. With any luck, it would be better than the last.

Bonnie and Elena strolled over to the trail head at the edge of the clearing to mill with friends of theirs that Anastasia and I weren't all that familiar with, while we were quickly swarmed by my fellow members of the soccer team. My teammates weren't exactly friends with Anastasia, but she tagged along with us more often than not, so they had gotten used to her and were on pretty good terms with her. She knew them well enough to come out of her shell around them, so they were a pretty safe bet for people to talk to at a social event.

As far as parties went, this was shaping up to be a pretty good one. I wasn't a big fan of parties like this (before the accident, I had only ever really liked bonfires) but I had to admit, Corbin had done a great job. I told him so a few hours later when he, Andrew and Colin waltzed over to us after my team mates had trickled off in search of someone named Jess.

"Thanks," Corbin said with a grin, fiddling with the camera hanging around his neck. He was a fellow photographer on the Yearbook Committee, even if he had made it abundantly clear that the Spirit Squad was his first love. "Lots of work, but worth it. Caroline Forbes was chomping at the bit to help out."

Andrew snorted and rolled his eyes, taking a gulp of Corona Light. "No surprise there," he said with a grin. "The girl is great, don't get me wrong, but she's got to chill out."

I opened my mouth to disagree but closed it with a snap and glanced down at my can of Dr. Pepper. Andrew was kind of right. As much as I loved Caroline, you could probably find her photo next to the definition of neurotic in the dictionary. She seemed to feel the need to get involved in everything.

I grimaced at the not-so-nice thought and went to take another sip of my soda, only to find that it was empty. "I'm gonna go grab another Dr. Pepper," I told 'Stasia and the guys, turning toward the picnic tables where I knew there were coolers filled with ice.

Andrew gave me his signature, cheeky grin. "Still staying sober?" he teased, wagging his beer in front of me like a cat toy. "I can't tempt you to let loose? You used to be pretty fun, you know."

"Hardee har har." I rolled my eyes at him and smiled. "Yes, I'm staying sober. Alcohol and I don't mix very well."

Andrew pouted at me but grinned again and said, "Then you're not gonna find what you want at the pavilion… At least, nothing that you want that's _sanitary_, if you know what I mean."

I wrinkled my nose and nodded, because I did know what he meant (unfortunately enough), and he directed me over to a row boat stocked with ice and aluminum cans in the shadows of the tree line, almost out of reach of the bonfire's glow. I made my way over and combed through the ice with my hands, shivering a little in my airy shirt. I knew I should have gone with a jacket.

"Cold night for September, isn't it?"

I turned with a gasp, dropping the can of Fanta I had just grabbed to the ground, and let out an irritated puff of air when grave-yard-dream-boy stepped out of the trees, wearing the same leather jacket and annoying smirk, but this time with a black t-shirt and grey jeans. He glanced at me, and the smirk turned more amused than forced. His eyebrows pulled together and I noticed for the first time that they were a pretty attractive set of eyebrows.

"Did I scare you?" he asked hopefully.

I opened my mouth, changed my mind, and crouched down to pick up the soda can. "Yes," I grumbled, brushing dirt off of it and getting back up. I surveyed him. "It's Devon, right?"

"Damon," he corrected.

"Damn." I shot him a sheepish- if wary (I was still remembering my nightmare of him) grimace. "Sorry. I'm bad with names."

He shrugged and waved a hand through the air. "Not a fan of alcohol?" he guessed, nodding at my choice of drink.

I scowled irritably and started fiddling with the tab. "Not really," I admitted. I wasn't about to tell him the reason why, but the way he was smirking at me… made me feel like he already knew, even though I knew that wasn't possible. Thankfully enough, my bout of insanity had been kept under wraps by the few people who knew about it, and hadn't become fodder for the Mystic Falls gossip mongers.

"You don't know what you're missing," he told me, saluting me with a metal flask I hadn't noticed before.

I chuckled slightly as Damon edged closer to me. "I think I'll be fine."

Damon shrugged and took a swig from whatever was in the flask. "Suit yourself."

"I will," I muttered to him, popping the can open and letting out a screeched, "Shit!" when orange Fanta spewed out and hit my stomach and the thighs of my jeans and Damon's expensive-looking t-shirt.

"Shit," I repeated, grimacing. "I am so sorry."

Damon sneered unhappily and took the sticky can out of my hands, crushing it with one flick of his wrist and tossing it over his shoulder. "God dammit, it's fine. I hated this shirt anyway."

"No, I can replace it, or whatever," I told him. "I just- God, this sucks. I'm sorry… Ew, okay no. I can't do this." With a grossed-out grimace, I pulled the ruined, royal blue shirt over my head, thankful that I'd elected to wear a tank top that night. I was cold, yeah, but I guessed I'd just stick close to the bonfire.

Damon, copying me, stripped off his jacket and t-shirt, leaving himself in a white undershirt. He shrugged uncaringly and balled up the t-shirt, leaving it in a sopping ball next to the row-boat-turned-cooler along with the royal blue shirt he had taken from my hands.

"I'm really sorry," I said again, trailing after Damon as he took a seat on a nearby, moss-covered log.

"Well, that's one way to make an introduction," Damon drawled uncaringly. He glanced at me over his shoulder and smirked. "Haven't fallen over any bridges yet, have you?"

I blinked at him, not understanding, and then raised an eyebrow. "Ha, funny," I dead-panned. "You know, if you're gonna stalk me like this, you might as well tell me more about yourself."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Who said I was stalking you?" he asked, watching blandly as I rubbed at my cold, bare arms. "Maybe running into you all these times is just a coinkydink. Wrong place, wrong time- for you, that is."

I scowled playfully up at him. "Who says you aren't the one who's always in the wrong place, wrong time?" I questioned.

He smirked. "Because I'm never wrong."

I had to chuckle slightly at that one. I paused for a moment, bit my lip, and decided to say, "Say what you want, but I'm not buying it. At least tell me a little more, please. It's the least you can do, after all, after scaring the crap out of me yesterday."

"The least _I_ can do?" Damon repeated incredulously. "How about the least you can do? You ruined my favorite shirt, after all."

I scoffed. "You said you hated that shirt!"

"Maybe I was lying to spare your feelings."

"You wouldn't do that," I told him, and when he challenged why, exactly, I thought he wouldn't, I bluntly stated, "Because you don't care what anyone else thinks about you."

Damon's eyes narrowed at me. "Touché." With a grunt, he leaned back on the log and folded his hands behind his head. "I'm twenty-two," he began, "just moved here. My little brother is a junior in high school and our parents are dead so I'm looking after him. Happy?"

I shot him a sideways look. "So let me get this straight," I started. "You're at a high school party to look after your brother? That's… that's just lame."

Damon glared at me and got to his feet. "You're just a little spitfire, aren't you?" He smirked down at me then, a crueler light in his eyes than usual. "I like you. But sadly, you're right. I should get going."

"Nice talking to you then, I guess," I mumbled as he walked away, blinking, suddenly realizing just how bizarre that entire conversation had been. Shaking my head, I got up from the bench and shivered, wandering closer to the bonfire.

Elena was standing there, laughing at something Bonnie was saying, and her eyes widened when she saw me. "Sidney?" she questioned. "What happened to your shirt?"

"Crazy night?" Bonnie asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

I scoffed at her. "Don't even." I turned to Elena and shrugged. "It's a long story. Don't ask… What time is it?"

Elena shrugged. "Not sure," she admitted. "I take it you're ready to head home-"

I never got the chance to tell her that, yes, I was ready to go home, because a piss-drunk Tyler Lockwood chose that moment to scream, "Vicki! WHAT THE HELL?" and dash over to the row boat I had just come from.

Exchanging confused glances, Bonnie, Elena and I stretched up to see over the crowd. My eyes widened when I spotted Jeremy stumble out of the woods, a bundle of a girl in his arms. Matt Donovan dashed over to help Jeremy and Tyler with the girl, and I realized that it was his older sister, Vicki Donovan who was in my grade.

"Shit," I cursed again, trying to elbow my way closer, but the crowd was so thick around them that I couldn't get through.

"Everybody, back up," Tyler ordered as Matt spread his sister out on one of the picnic tables. "Give us some space!"

"Someone call an ambulance!" Matt added.

I moved to grab my cell phone but Sutter McCreevey was already on it. The crowd parted to give her some space to step somewhere quieter and talk to the hospital staff.

"What happened to her?" Elena asked in a stunned voice. I knew why she was worried- it wasn't for Vicki personally, it was for Jeremy. We both knew what a huge crush he had on her. He'd be crushed if she got seriously hurt… or, God forbid, died.

"She's fine," Bonnie assured her. "Probably just passed out drunk or high or whatever. She'll be fine."

But somehow, watching Vicki splayed out across the picnic table in the dying light of the bonfire like she was already passed, I wasn't so sure.


	4. Let's Talk about Sex and Ex-Girlfriends

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 4: Let's Talk about Sex and Ex-Girlfriends  
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. While doing so I listened to One of the Boys by Katy Perry (Sidney and I definitely don't share the same taste in music) and Mind Reader by Dustin Lynch.**

* * *

"An animal attack?" I asked the next afternoon at soccer practice, repeating what Madison Crull had told me about Vicki Donovan's episode the night before. "They're blaming it on an animal attack?"

Madison nodded as the two of us ran sprints across the soccer field, our fellow midfielder, Sutter McCreevey tailing along closely behind us. "That's what my mom said." Madison would know. Her mom was one of the best doctors at Mystic Falls Hospital, after all.

"That's definitely what it looked like to me," Sutter added, coming up on my right. "I was right up next to that table." She grinned cheekily. "Corbin and I were hooking up when Sid's brother started screaming."

Madison gasped in excitement for Sutter. "Get out," she said, squealing when Sutter nodded in affirmation of what had happened last night. She and Corbin had been running on pure sexual tension for the past two years. It was about time, and I said so.

"What about you and Andrew Deveraux?" Madison asked in reply to my statement. "Anything happen?"

"Unfortunately, no," I said, biting my lip when I remembered what I had seen on my way into my Economy class that day: Andrew leaning over Anastasia's shoulder as she laughed at something he was telling her. I knew I was probably just being paranoid, but it had just looked… suspicious to me, I guessed.

I shook my head to clear it and pumped my legs harder, pushing ahead of Madison and Sutter by a few feet. "I got distracted," I called back to them, nearly out of breath from the exercise. Soccer conditioning was rough. "There was some hot guy by the trail head that I started talking to." Damon- hot but not an option for dating. He was too creepy, but Madison and Sutter didn't need to know that, they just needed to know that Andrew and I weren't any close to getting together than we had been before the party… and that was just depressing.

"Anyway," Sutter called, pulling the conversation back onto Vicki Donovan. "Yeah, Vicki was attacked by an animal. I saw the bite. Whatever it was took a huge chunk out of her neck."

I wrinkled my nose. "Gross."

"Yeah, I guess. It's a cool story though," Sutter said.

We didn't get to talk much more about it that afternoon though, as Coach kept us too tired to talk for the rest of practice and I had to rush back into my clothes and into my car, having promised Caroline that I would help her, Elena and Bonnie with folding fliers for the Night of the Comet festival that night.

"They're informational brochures," Caroline told me, shoving a part of the stack in my direction after I had ordered my usual iced tea and settled into my seat at the table on the patio of the Mystic Grille. "Just stuff about the comet's history and its impact on the town and stuff. I don't know, Mrs. Fell just wants us to fold them."

So we did. And as we folded, the subject somehow turned to Elena's fluffy and fuzzy relationship with one hot hunk of boy named Stefan Salvatore- or more precisely why the hell she hadn't f*cked him yet.

"I mean, it's simple!" Caroline insisted, smacking her palms flat against the table top we were sitting around. "Boy likes girl, girl likes boy- _sex_! Just… Just jump his bones already!"

I snorted into the straw of my iced tea, sipping so hard I was on the verge of a brain-freeze. "And now we know why teenage pregnancy is up five-percent," I joked lamely. I shot Elena a sideways glance and wondered whether or not I should tell the others about how I had run into Stefan trying to sneak out of our house at four in the morning the night before.

He had insisted that he and Elena had just been talking, after having scared the bejeebus out of me while I had been fixing a glass of water in the dark kitchen after another one of my nightmares. I had asked Elena about it that morning, and she had told me it was exactly what Stefan had said: just talking. I wasn't so sure, but I knew she wouldn't want Bonnie and Caroline to know about it, so I kept quiet and folded up another flier.

"Caroline," Bonnie started, in that I-want-to-hear-more-because-it's-funny-but-Elena-is-really-sensitive-so-shut-up voice she used whenever Caroline said something that made Elena all bashful, but for the first time ever, Elena wouldn't let her finish.

"No," Elena said, getting to her feet and tugging on the caramel-colored leather jacket that I had passed down to her the winter before. "No, she's right."

"I'm right?" Caroline repeated incredulously. She grinned then and preened in her seat. "Would you look at that, I'm right!"

Elena gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Don't get used to it, Care," she joked. She glanced at me then and took the kind of deep breath that pushed her shoulders back until she looked like a ballerina. "But Caroline's right, I need to… to take life by the reigns and… and stop being such a wallflower." She gave the cheeky grin that I hadn't seen since before the crash, the one that I had missed, and continued, "I'm gonna go over to the Salvatore Boarding House, and I am going to hook up with him."

My eyes widened. "Yeesh, Elena," I hinged. "God, you're just gonna jump in the sack with him?"

Elena smacked me in the arm with her worn wallet before tucking it into her purse, making me yelp in pain. "God, Sid! No!" she shrieked, attracting several looks from everyone else sitting out on the porch, which made her blush and say in a quieter voice, "Not that kind of hook up, the boyfriend-girlfriend hookup."

"O-oh." I laughed sheepishly and bit my lip. "Sorry. Yeah, that kind. I'm cool with that kind."

But was I? The truth was, Stefan had grown on me, a little bit. I didn't trust him completely, but, I reminded myself, in the end it wasn't my decision to make. If Elena wanted to put her emotions on the line again and "hook up" with him, then it was my duty as her sister to support her, no matter what I thought the end result was going to be.

I regretted that decision the second she asked me to drive her to the Boarding House, and I regretted it even more when we were rolling up the gravel driveway, Elena having guilted me into taking her.

The Salvatore Boarding House was creepy to say the least. Dark green ivy climbed up the side of a sprawling, four story, red brick and dark stone mansion. Light reflected off of the many, stained windows dotted across the face of the house, but even that wasn't enough to get rid of the hundreds of shadows surrounding the Boarding House from the close-knit forest. There was a covered, wrap-around, mahogany front porch that probably would have been really nice to watch sunrises or take pictures from or something, and before I could blink, Elena was already standing on it, hand raised to slam the door-knocker.

She didn't hit it that hard, but the door must have been already ajar or something because it swung open with a creak I could hear from where I was standing next to the car. Elena stared in shock at the open door for a moment before squaring her shoulders and stepping in.

"'Lena!" I hissed, rushing forward and grabbing her by the wrist before she could get her other sneaker over the threshold. She turned to me with eyebrows raised. "Elena, you can't just go waltzing into someone's house without an invitation."

Elena shrugged and cocked her head at the front door. "It's open," she stated, with plenty of _duh_ in her voice. "And it's a boarding house. They probably get people walking in all the time."

"Yeah, but you can't just… you can't just _walk into someone's house_ like that- Elena!"

True to pre-accident form, she ignored me and walked through, leaving me no other option but to follow her because I sure as hell wasn't going to just let my little sister waltz into what looked like a house straight out of a slasher flick… without me, that is.

If I thought the outside of the house was from a slasher movie, than the inside was straight out of a 1920's vampire film. There was stained, chestnut, immaculate wood everywhere, gleaming in the dim light of a black, cast iron chandelier hanging from a chain from the vaulted, rafter-crossed ceiling four stories above our heads. Oil paintings of the Salvatores' ancestors hung from the walls, and woven rugs from some far-off country dotted the floor. The furniture was all either dark-stained wood or dark-stained leather, with no throw pillows or blankets in sight. Hard-cut crystal glasses of brandy and some other dusty liquid were set on a rolling bar behind the couch, and in every direction I turned I could see shadows and darkness and secrets. If I weren't so terrified of an awkward conversation, I would have been chomping at the bit to explore.

"Elena, let's go," I tried again, but she ignored me and called out, "Hello? Stefan?"

There was a noise from behind us. I whirled on the heel of my boot and shrieked loudly and shrilly at the crow now fluttering up and down in the doorway, cawing at us and screeching. Black feathers were flying everywhere, and the noise was so loud my heart leapt in my throat as I stumbled back, crying, "Oh my God!" over and over and over again until the door finally slammed shut (only later would I realize that neither Elena nor I had touched it). Elena and I both whirled around, and I screamed again when I found myself met with a black cotton-clad, sculpted chest (six pack, I registered blankly) and looked up to see Damon staring down at me, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

I let out a shaky breath and stepped back so we weren't nose-to-nose anymore. "Damon," I breathed. "Oh my God, that was scary. Do crows like to follow you around or something?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "Why are you here?"

I opened my mouth and then shut it, biting my lip as an automatic reaction and then saying, "I'm here with my sister, Elena… Elena!" I said suddenly, remembering that the two didn't know each other yet. "Elena, this is hot cemetery guy, Damon. Damon, this is my little sister, Elena."

"You think I'm hot?" Damon asked with a cheeky smirk in my direction, not even looking at Elena as he shook her hand, although he seemed a little bit taken aback when he finally laid eyes on her, for what reason I couldn't fathom but didn't care much about.

"Uh, hi," Elena said awkwardly, making him blink and smile charmingly, if a little fakely. "I'm Elena, like Sidney said. Um… Sorry for barging in like that but the door was…" She pointed a thumb back at the now-closed door and then explained, "Well, the door _was_ open, and then this crow showed up and… Yeah." She nodded awkwardly. "Anyway, I'm looking for Stefan Salvatore-"

"My younger brother," Damon interrupted, making my eyes widen in surprise. _Damon was Stefan's older brother?_ Stefan had said he didn't have a brother! But wait, no he hadn't.

"_None that I talk to…"_

So Stefan and Damon weren't on good terms then? I couldn't even imagine that. Elena and I were close- so close, closer than either of us were with Jeremy. What had happened between Damon and Stefan, then?

"God, you remind me of her so much," Damon commented suddenly. I blinked and paid attention to the conversation again. He was staring at my sister. "I- I'm sorry, it's just… It's uncanny."

"Wh-Who?" Elena asked. "I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?"

"Katherine," Damon explained, casting his eyes down and taking a sip of what was probably whiskey from the glass he was holding that I hadn't noticed until now. "Stefan's ex-girlfriend. Died in a fire. Tragic. Seems like it was just yesterday."

My mouth opened slightly, and I shut it with an audible snap, biting on my lip hard enough to draw blood. My teeth weren't that sharp though, so I didn't actually bleed, but… Well, you get the picture.

"Elena," another boy's voice said suddenly. I glanced up and saw Stefan had come out of a door that probably lead to the kitchen. "Sidney. What are you two doing here?"

Elena nodded stiffly, and replied, "Looking for you actually, but"- she angled her head toward the front door- "I think we'd better go."

"Yeah, you should," Stefan muttered, glaring daggers at Damon, not even looking at Elena.

"Okay then," she said quietly. "Come on Sidney." And I mumbled a quiet good bye to Damon, who was staring at his younger brother in amusement, and nodded at Stefan, and followed Elena out the door and down the porch and into the car and started it up, and as I backed down the driveway, she told me, "I don't want to talk about it," and so we didn't.


	5. Dysfunctional Family Dinner

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 5: Dysfunctional Family Dinner  
A/N: Unfortunately enough, this will be the last one of my daily updates as I return to school tomorrow. You can expect updates once, maybe twice a week if it's a good one. I sincerely hope you don't mind and recommend listening to Help I'm Alive by Metric and Houses by Great Northern this time around. Enjoy and please take a few seconds to leave a review!**

* * *

By the time Anastasia's and my shift working the cotton candy booth was over, I felt like punching someone in the face. My already-hard-to-manage hair was sticking to the back of my neck from sweat and frizzing because of the heat, my deodorant didn't seem to be working all that well, I was thirsty, my head was ringing from the noise of the crowd, and my arms were sticky from the cotton candy. I would have killed for a shower and a pair of ear plugs.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. I was currently perched at a table in the middle of the crowded Grille, sipping on an iced coffee and nibbling half-heartedly on a plate of French fries in an attempt to get something in my stomach. Anastasia had had to rush off right after our shift was over, as her dad was in town for once and wanted to watch the free concert in the park with her.

I probably could have headed home; Elena would be able to catch a ride home with Bonnie or Caroline or someone and Jeremy had insisted on multiple occasions that he hated being in the car with me because my driving "terrified the hell out of him", or something like that. There was really no reason for me to stick around, but I was stubborn, and I had made up my mind that I wasn't going home until I had at least seen a small part of the comet.

"Fancy seeing you here, Siddie."

With a groan, I lifted my head off the back of the chair I was sitting in and glared at Damon, who had claimed the empty seat across the table and was smirking at me, holding a glass of something that looked alcoholic and chewing on a fry he had swiped from the practically untouched basket.

"Can I help you?" I asked pointedly.

Damon shrugged and chewed slowly on another French fry. I watched with narrowed eyes as he swallowed and said, "How's Elena after the entire affair at my place this afternoon? Stefan didn't seem too happy to see her there."

I snorted lowly. "You sound like a teenage girl gossiping." I took a long sip of iced coffee and stared at him over the rim of my glass. "What was up with him, anyway?" I asked. "He was acting like Edward Cullen."

"He's always acting like Edward Cullen," Damon shot back.

I had to grin at that one. "Okay yes," I admitted quickly. "But still. What's up? Family feud?"

"Lots of drama," Damon acknowledged with a nod.

"That's always fun."

"Yeah, well." Damon did that weird crazy-blue-eyes thing I'd noticed he did a lot. "I sense some grumpiness coming from milady," he drawled. He raised an attractive eyebrow and took a swig of his drink. "Anything you want to tell me about?"

I raised my eyebrows right back because, hey, two could play at this game, and said, "No. I don't know if you realize this, Damon, but normal people don't typically go spilling their guts to some really hot guy they've known for a week- barely known, actually."

"You called me hot again," Damon pointed out with a smirk, laughing when I groaned.

"Okay, okay," I conceded with a slight grin. "Family drama is all." (See; Jenna finally realizing that Jeremy's a stoner.) "And, no offense to children, but I just spent the evening watching hoards of them pick their noses while I got covered in spun sugar. So forgive me if I'm not in the best of moods right now."

"You know what you need?" Damon said as I slapped a ten dollar bill down on the table and grabbed my purse. "Something with lots and lots of booze."

"Don't drink," I replied immediately, my grin souring when he followed me to the door.

"You don't know what you're missing," he sang, holding the door open for me.

"That I do, and it really isn't much. Sorta gross, actually. Not a fan of throwing up."

"Meh." Damon shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You just have to be careful is all. 'Hold the thing that can kill you between your teeth'-"

"'But don't give it the power to do the killing'," I finished, remembering the quote to my surprise. I turned to Damon with a grin. "Bite the Bullet. _The Incredible Hulk_?" I guessed.

He nodded. "Let me walk you to your car."

I don't really know why, but I let him, and he was smiling a little bit as I dug my keys out of the pocket of my shorts and unlocked the car door. I glanced at him before hopping in and followed his gaze up to the comet and immediately proceeded to gasp.

"God, that's beautiful," I whistled, lifting my camera up to snap a quick set of pictures.

There was just no other word for it. Describing just how awesome a comet is is hard, but I'm going to try and do it anyway. Imagine the purest, whitest light in the world right there in front of you, arcing across the sky in a slow blaze of glory. Now add yellows and pinks and golds and reds and oranges on the tail of the light, and a midnight blue ocean of stars surrounding it. Now imagine being surrounded by hundreds of pinpricks of light from candles, and faces bathed in flickering light, and you've got it.

Damon turned to me, looking utterly unimpressed. "I've seen better," he informed me, and opened the car door so I could slide into the driver's seat. "Drive safe."

I did, which was hard, considering the crowd, but I was distracted. How could Damon just say "I've seen better" so casually like that? How could he not have been as much at a loss for words as I was?

Damon, I realized, was an utter mystery- one that I would probably never be able to figure out. But then, I sort of wanted to. He seemed like a nice guy, at least, and not many people could take my sarcasm and throw it right back at me, and I liked him. I wanted to get to know him better.

* * *

So when Damon appeared on Caroline's arm on my doorstep the next night, holding a boxed up Tiramisu and proudly proclaiming "We brought dessert", I figured it was the universe telling me a friendship was meant to be.

It had been a weird day. All of us were more than feeling the effects of staying at the festival so late the night before, so when Elena suggested a dinner with Bonnie, Stefan, Anastasia and Caroline that night as an attempt to make Bonnie like Stefan more (Elena and Stefan were dating now, apparently) it had sounded like a wonderful idea to my sleep-deprived brain, and I had agreed to go along with the dumb scheme. After chugging what felt like four Red Bulls (God, those things are disgusting) upon coming home from school, I had regretted my decision, but it was too late to back out now.

After the mind-f*ck that had been the awkward dinner conversation, my circuits were too fried upon encountering Damon and Caroline in a couple-ish pose (what? Were they dating or something?) to do much else but blink up at Damon and say, "Um, hi?"

"Surprise," Damon said with a wolfish grin. "We figured we'd crash the party."

Caroline glanced between us in surprise. "You two know each other?"

I bit my lip and slowly glanced between the two of them before saying, "Um, yes." I shook my head. "Are you two, um, dating, or something?"

Caroline giggled girlishly and nodded, and that's when I realized that the apocalypse was near.

"Um…" I shook my head again (the Red Bull was wearing off, so I needed sleep soon) and stepped aside so they could get in the house. Damon didn't move. "Well?" I prompted, narrowing my eyes and giving a confused quirk of my lips. "What are you waiting for? Come in."

So, with a hesitant grin, Damon did.

"You have a lovely home," he commented, staring around the entrance hall, and I remembered with a slight smile that Stefan had said almost the exact same thing his first time at the house.

Speaking of which: "Damon, what are you doing here?"

I turned and saw that Stefan had been attracted out of the living room, Bonnie and Elena on his tail, and was glaring at his older brother, his eyes stormy. Damon just smirked.

"Like I was saying to the lovely Siddie," he said, with a smirk in my direction, "Caroline and I were out and about together and figured we'd crash the party." He smiled charmingly at Elena. "Hope you like Tiramisu."

"I do, thanks," Elena said, taking the boxed cake and smiling, turning to Caroline and saying, "Care, this is a surprise. What are you doing here?"

"Well," Caroline said with another giggle (Out of character for her, I noted tiredly), "we were just in the neighborhood and thought we would stop by."

"In that case I'm glad you did," Elena said, glancing over at Bonnie. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Bonnie, this is Damon. Damon, this is Bonnie."

"A pleasure," Damon said, doing the crazy-eye thing again. Bonnie recoiled slightly.

Stefan, who had been scowling in the general direction of everything, straightened up suddenly and turned to me with a creepy smirk. I snapped to attention and watched him warily. Why was he looking at me like that?

"Sidney," he started, "have you tried that tea I gave you yet?"

"Uh, no," I answered, carefully taking the boxed-up Tiramisu from Elena's hands. "Thanks for reminding me though. I think I'll go try it now." I glanced at the others. "Anyone want some cake?"

"Please," Bonnie said immediately, ever the sweet tooth.

I nodded and headed to the kitchen, Damon following along after shooting "I'll help," over his shoulder to Caroline, who was too busy telling the others about how she had snagged Damon to really care what he was doing all that much.

"So, you and Caroline, huh?" I began conversationally once we had reached the kitchen, setting the boxed cake on the counter and reaching into a cabinet for a mug.

Damon shrugged, watching me with the slightest hint of unhappiness. "Yeah, I guess. The girl is great in bed."

"Gross," I commented, wrinkling my freckled nose.

Damon snickered and hopped up onto the counter. "Stefan gave you tea?" he asked as I took the aluminum tin out of the cupboard and pinched a grainy mix of crushed up leaves and smelly spices. I thought there might have been a little bit of cinnamon in there.

"Mm hm." I bit my lip and took a big whiff. "Huh. Smells pretty good."

"I can smell it from here," Damon told me. He leaned a little closer as I poured water and honey into my mug and stuck it in the microwave. "Did Stefan tell you what was in that?"

"Some herb called vervain," I said uncaringly. "I don't really know. I haven't been able to keep much down lately, and he said this helps him when he's having stomach problems. He told me to drink some every day."

"Every day?" Damon repeated, sounding just a little chagrined.

I shot him a wary look. "Yeah, why?"

Damon cleared his throat and hopped off the counter, picking up the box of Tiramisu and opening it with a swift, concise flick of his fingers. "No reason." He cleared his throat and glanced back at me with his crazy eyes. "You know, you probably shouldn't chance drinking that," he said as I took the mug out of the microwave. "I mean, if you've never been exposed to vervain before. You might be allergic to it."

I shot him a cheeky grin. "I think I'll take my chances, thanks."

I heard a door creak open, and a few seconds later Anastasia had emerged from the bathroom, only she froze up the second she laid eyes on Damon. I straightened up and said, "'Stasia, this is Damon Salvatore, Stefan's older brother. He's dating Caroline. Damon, this is my best friend, Anastasia Graham."

"A pleasure," Damon said drily, still glaring at the mug I had just taken a sip out of.

"Hi," Anastasia said in a squeaky voice. She looked pale and slightly green.

"Hey," I said in concern, setting the mug down, making Damon glance away from it and zero in on Anastasia for the first time. "'Stasia, are you alright? You don't look so good."

Anastasia stared at Damon for another minute before shaking her head and reaching for her jacket, which she had thrown over one of the bar stools when she first walked into the house. "No," she said in a quavering voice. "No, I'm not. I-" She shot another fearful look at Damon. "I need to go. I don't feel good."

"Want me to give you a ride home?" I asked, watching in confusion as Anastasia tripped over herself in her haste to get out of the house.

"No," she said immediately, and then shot another look in Damon's direction. "No, it's fine- _I'm_ fine. I just need to go."

"Be safe," I mumbled, but she didn't hear me. She was already out the door and running home as fast as she could.

If only I had known what- or rather, _who_ she was running from.


	6. Blood's a Bitch

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 6: Blood's a B*tch  
A/N: The soundtrack for this chapter is Animals by Maroon 5. I also watched Twilight: New Moon while writing, but I strongly advise you not to do that. Please enjoy, and leave a comment if you can!**

* * *

Something was wrong with Anastasia. I had been thinking about it the night before, and realized that her "I don't feel good" excuse wasn't going to cut it. Her reaction to Damon had just been too extreme and had put me on edge. Sure, Anastasia didn't like being around new people, but this… this was just ridiculous. So I asked her about it the next evening as we were fixing dinner before I had to head over to the school for the football game. I had agreed to take pictures for Yearbook, unfortunately enough.

"So," I said, drawing it out as I filled a pot with water from the sink. "What was up with you last night?"

Anastasia paused. She had been unwrapping a stick of butter for the sauce she was making for her and her dad, but she set the wrapper aside and turned to look at me fully. "Nothing," she said firmly. "I just didn't feel good, like I said. Besides, Dad wanted me home early and-"

"'Stasia," I interrupted, setting the pot on the stove top with a thunk. "I don't buy that and you know it. You've _never_ acted like that before. What's going on?"

"I just…" Anastasia trailed off and reached for the pots of herbs growing on the window sill and started ripping up sprigs of basil and oregano. "I just got this… _off_ feeling about Damon." She paused again and gave me one of her intense looks that I didn't get to see very often. I realized again that her eyes weren't really blue; they were somewhere in between green and grey.

"I don't like him, Sid," she told me. "I don't trust him, and I don't think you should be hanging out with him. And I _definitely_ don't think that Caroline should be dating him."

I snorted and poured a box of noodles into the boiling pot of water to try and relieve some of the heavy mood that had sprung up all of a sudden. "Try telling that to Caroline," I said, unscrewing the lid on a can of tomato sauce. "She says she's in love but I didn't actually see them being all lovey dovey last night, you know-?"

"Sidney!" Anastasia snapped. My head whipped up and I stared at her in shock. Anastasia _never_-

"He's dangerous," Anastasia said, staring steadily at the knife she was using to cut the butter into slices so they would melt easier. "He's _dangerous_, Sid. Just- just trust me on this, okay? Stay away from him- _both_ of the Salvatores. They're bad news."

"Why do you think there's something suspicious about them?" I asked in annoyance.

I didn't get why Anastasia was so dead-set against the Salvatores. They seemed pretty nice to me. I liked Stefan. I thought he was a good match for Elena, and I liked the way he treated her. And Damon was just a fun guy to be around. I wanted to pursue a friendship with him. Sure, they had their secrets, but didn't we all?

Anastasia set the knife down and opened her mouth to speak. There was this super serious look on her face, but she never got the chance to tell me the truth. The alarm system dinged, letting us know someone had just come in through the front door, and a few seconds later, Mr. Graham's voice called, "Something smells good. Ana, is that you?"

"Yes sir," Anastasia called back, wiping her hands off on a dish towel and moving to hug her dad when he entered the kitchen. "Sidney too."

"Hi, Sidney." Mr. Graham smiled at me and I smiled back, even if it was the complete last thing I felt like doing. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Um, no, actually," I said, shooting a worried look at Anastasia over my shoulder as I slung the strap of my camera around my neck. "Just helping out. I need to get over to the school; promised Mr. West I'd take pictures of the game. But you two enjoy."

"Well," Mr. Graham said, "you're welcome to join us any time. Have a good night."

"You too," I said, already halfway out of the kitchen.

"Sidney," Anastasia said seriously, making me stop, "remember what I told you."

I turned and stared at her seriously, nodding. "I will," I said, even as I stepped out the front door and slid into my car, knowing that I had just blatantly lied to my best friend.

* * *

The field surrounding the Timber Wolves' stadium was absolute chaos by the time I got there. I snapped a few pictures from my Toyota before hopping out and pulling on my woven sweatshirt. The soles of my boots scraped against the dirt of the field I had parked in as I walked. Cars were parked all across the grass, and a cheery voice (yeah, Corbin was definitely enjoying his first game as spirit squad leader) shouted announcements over the grainy loudspeaker. People were all over the place; I thought I saw Jeremy swigging beers in the back of a bright red pickup truck with his stoner friends, but I elected to ignore him for the sake of my sanity.

I came to a stop in front of the wood pile Corbin and the rest of the spirit squad had set up for the bonfire they were planning to set off once it got dark, staring at the dummy clad in the opposing team's colors that was strapped to a stake. A familiar voice from behind me said: "Grotesque, isn't it?"

I turned around and smiled at Damon. "Absolutely." I turned again and took a quick snapshot of the dummy then grinned at him again. "What are you doing here?"

"Surprised to see me?" he asked, sniffing and raising his eyebrows.

"Um yeah, actually," I admitted, quirking my lips. "I didn't think a high school football game was really your speed."

"Well," Damon began, shrugging slightly, tailing along after me as I set off on a quest for more pictures, "this is my little brother's first game. _And_"- he circled around me so he was walking backwards in front of me, facing me- "my girlfriend's a cheerleader, so…" He grinned cheekily and faced the right direction again, bumping his hip against mine playfully and shrugging. "Here I am."

I grinned at him sardonically. "Here you are."

And somehow, the night went from take-pictures-for-Yearbook to play-20-questions-with-Damon. I don't know how it happened, it just _did_. That, I would soon learn, is how things are with Damon. You don't know how things happen, they just happen. And you really don't care because you're so happy or in so much pain or screaming so hard at him because you're just _so angry_ that you can't even think. Things don't matter when you're around Damon. He consumes you. He's like a roller coaster, as cliche as it is, and you're so focused on that big hill that you don't care about what's happening on the ground.

"Is that sweatshirt hemp?" he asked me at one point, settling onto the grass with a bit of a sneer as it started clinging to his signature leather jacket.

I shrugged and scrolled through the pictures I had taken on my camera. "I don't know. I stole it from Jeremy a few months ago, so… Yeah, maybe."

Damon sniffed and glanced at the sunset. "What is the kid even on, anyways?"

"Crack," I answered automatically. "I think. Not weed or anything, so maybe it's not hemp…"

"Yeah, probably not." Damon relaxed back on his elbows and nodded at my camera. "Why are you always carrying that thing around anyway?"

"Hmm?" I asked, not paying attention, taking a picture of the sunset.

Damon frowned slightly and reached up to tug on my ponytail. "I said," he stressed with faux annoyance, "why is that camera always around your neck? You really have to take pictures for Yearbook that often?"

"Pssht," I snorted. "No." I angled my head back to soak up some of the last rays of the sun. October was coming quick. "Dad gave me my first camera when I was like, ten. He taught me most of what I know and then Mr. West picked up when I got into high school. I love it."

"Yeah," Damon said sardonically. "I can tell."

That was how our conversations went that night. Before I even knew it the sun was gone and the stars were out. Flames from the bonfire licked up the dummy and burnt it, much to my classmates' pleasure. Mr. Tanner started droning out the same pep talk he gave before every game, and I didn't care about anything else but the fact that Damon and I were still laughing our asses off about some lame joke I didn't even remember anymore. We were at that point where everything the other said was side-splittingly funny.

By this point, I had learned that Damon loved anything from the 90's, 70's, 60's, and 20's, and held classical music in high esteem, but abhorred any kind of music even remotely related to the 80's. He adored anything written by Oscar Wilde and had somehow coerced me into reading _The Call of the Wild_. He had a giant sweet tooth for chocolate but would be forced to kill me if I told anyone, thought _The Twilight Saga_ was the scourge of mankind, and concurred with me that George Washington had the best hairstyle out of all the presidents. He and Stefan used to play football in their backyard when they were younger, before they had hated each other so much. I noticed how he always had to be doing something with his hands, and how whenever the subject got too serious for him or made him uncomfortable he started teasing me to change it. Damon's eyes looked grey at night, and there was a little bit of brown mixed in his jet black hair when the sun hit it just right. His favorite time was sunrise and his favorite time of year was winter.

Damon learned about my everlasting crush on Andrew, my extreme fear of birds, and how the lady who had given me my driver's test had had the worst breath in the world. He scoffed when I told him about my love for Elvis Presley and the Beatles, but was impressed by my knowledge of 70's punk rock. He nodded in understanding when I told him about my overwhelming desire to _get out of Mystic Falls and go somewhere_. And when he asked about just where I wanted to go, he agreed that Italy was by far the best place to go backpacking, but that touring the United Kingdom first would be my best bet. He listened as I complained about the kink in my brown hair that I could never quite straighten (although he did tease me about it later), and pointed out that if I kept biting my lip like I always did it was going to get really chapped and that just wouldn't be fun at all.

By the time the pre-game pep rally had started, I almost didn't want to get up from my seat on the grass.

"Come on," Damon said, pulling me up by my arm. "Let's go watch young boys in plastic body armor wrestle each other for a ball."

I scrunched up my freckled nose. "It sounds kind of like gay porn when you put it like that," I told him.

"I have one thing to tell you: The Timber Wolves are hungry!" Tanner was yelling at everyone in the general vicinity as we approached the edge of the crowd gathered around the bonfire. I bit my lip when Damon and Caroline winked at each other, and he smirked at me condescendingly.

"Jealous?" he asked.

I laughed coldly and socked him in the arm. "Ha ha, no. In your dreams, Salvatore."

He whistled under his breath. "Damn, Gilbert," he said. "Harsh."

"Ouch," I grumbled as Tyler Lockwood shoved past me all of a sudden, making me fall to the ground if Damon hadn't caught me. We watched as Tyler met with Vicki Donovan before spotting Jeremy across the clearing and storming over.

I felt the color drain from my face. "Oh God." I separated from Damon and made my way over to the two boys, but I was too late.

Jeremy swung the first punch and nailed Tyler right in the jaw. Tyler jumped back to his feet and lunged for Jeremy, slamming him into the side of a truck and making the entire thing shudder violently. Vicki shouted something that I couldn't make out but Tyler ignored her, tossing Jeremy over his shoulder and into the ground.

"Tyler!" I heard Vicki shriek as I elbowed my way through the crowd that had gathered around the fight, Damon close behind me.

"Get off of him!" I screamed, striding over to Tyler and Jeremy and grabbing Tyler's shoulder, yanking back as hard as I could.

He ignored me and kept wailing away. I couldn't even see Jeremy's face anymore, but the sound of Tyler's fist crunching into it made me want to puke. How many bones were there in someone's face to break, anyways?

"Hey, he's down!" Stefan's voice yelled suddenly. I glanced back (Was I crying? I was pretty sure I was crying. God, that was lame.) "He's had enough!"

Tyler whirled around suddenly, nostrils flared in fury, and jabbed Stefan in the gut. It looked like a pretty hard punch but Stefan didn't even flinch. I didn't have time to be amazed though. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jeremy scramble back to his feet and swipe something shiny up from the ground. He lunged for Tyler and, barely realizing what I was doing, I threw myself in front of his fist…

There was an audible thump as Jeremy's fist hit the side of my face. I let out a yelp of mixed shock and pain because _damn that hurt_, and went down.

"_What the HELL_, Jeremy?" Elena's horrified voice shrieked.

I heard rhythmic boot steps as she ran over and helped me up into a sitting position. I coughed in shock and my hand immediately flew to my nose, checking to see if it was broken or not. It hurt like hell and there was blood seeping out of it so, yeah, probably. I glanced around for Damon but he was nowhere in sight.

"Sidney," Jeremy's voice said, making me look at him, dazed. He was bleeding too. "Sid, I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine," I said immediately, breathing hard as I got to my feet. "It's fine, it's- No, okay no. It's not fine. _You punched me in the freaking face!_"

"Both of you, shut up!" Elena snapped at us, making me groan loudly because _damn it_, she was going into mom-mode. "I'm taking both of you to the hospital, or the nurse, or- or-"

"God, Elena, I'm fine," Jeremy grumbled, wiping at the blood dripping down his mouth. Stefan and the rest of the football team were still trying to calm Tyler down.

"Really?" Elena challenged. "Because you don't _smell_ fine."

I sniffed through the blood and grimaced. Jeremy positively reeked of grass, sweat, booze and weed. God, this kid needed help, and I was done babying him.

Before either Elena or I could say a word, Jeremy had stormed off and I was left to bear the brunt of Elena's obsessive mothering.

That kid was _so_ getting it the next time I saw him.

* * *

By the time Nurse Olsen stopped my bleeding and diagnosed my nose as bruised but not broken, it was ten minutes 'till kick off and Elena and I had to power walk back to the stadium if we wanted to get there in time for me to take pictures.

"We can't do this anymore," I commented suddenly as Elena and I rounded a bend on the dark track that surrounded the practice field.

I couldn't see her in the dark, but I was pretty sure she shot me a confused look. "Do what anymore?" she asked.

"Jeremy." I sighed heavily and pressed the ice pack the nurse had given me closer to my cheek. "We can't just keep ignoring him anymore like we have. We need to get him professional help, or-or something because… because this has just gone too far and gone on for too long, and I don't think there's anything that _we_ can do that will help him."

Elena, copying me, bit her lip. I could see her now in the glow from the lights around the outside of the locker room and Building 8. We were almost at the field.

"Just give him a little more time before we take him to see a shrink," she hedged. "One, maybe two weeks. For all we know he could sort it out on his own."

"No," I answered stubbornly. I had thought about this a lot while sticking tampons up my nose to stop the bleeding. "No, Elena. I'm not waiting. He could overdose. He could die. He could get in another fight. He could-" I paused. Something wet was seeping into my shoe. "Elena?"

She hummed a reply.

"What did I just step in?"

Elena gave me a confused frown and looked down at my shoe. Together, we traced whatever dark liquid it was to a heap of fabric in the shadow of Building 8. My mouth was dry, for some reason, as I approached the pile and then immediately felt like puking.

"Oh my God," I whispered, horrified.

"What? What is it?" Elena asked in a scared voice, stepping over. Her eyes widened and she screamed, "Somebody- SOMEBODY HELP!"

It might have taken minutes and it might have taken hours, but before I knew it, the football players came pouring out of the locker room and there was more screaming and people were calling 911, and then ambulances and police cars had arrived and the people in the stands had realized something was happening and someone was saying that we needed to call his family but someone else put in that he had lived alone and no one knew anything about his parents so what should we do, and I just couldn't stop staring as Mr. Tanner's mangled, dead, bleeding body was rolled away on a gurney, a sheet covering his face that was twisted in horror.

"An animal attack," I heard Sherriff Forbes say into a walkie talkie.

It wasn't until Elena came to life with a sniffle and wrapped her arms around me to give me a hug that I realized I was bawling.

"I hated him," I sobbed finally, burying my face in her silky brown hair. "I hated him and now he's dead and… Why would an animal do this? Why would an animal come all the way out of the woods just to- just to _kill_ somebody-?" I broke off in a series of whines and choking sobs and hiccups.

"I don't know," Elena kept repeating.

At some point I stopped crying, and at some point I numbly registered that it was almost eleven and I needed to get my siblings home before something else happened. So I gently led Elena over to the parking lot where I found Jeremy sitting with his back propped up against the Toyota.

"I'm walking home," he informed me, not meeting my eyes as I gently guided Elena into the passenger seat.

I shut the door and just stared at the handle for a while. "No, you're not," I finally muttered, still not looking at him.

His head snapped up and he glared at me. There was still dried blood on his mouth. "You don't get to tell me what to do-" he began hotly, but I refused to let him finish.

"God dammit, Jeremy," I growled, whipping around to face him. He seemed taken aback by the sheer fury that was probably burning out of my green eyes. "Shut the hell up for a minute and listen to what I'm saying. I am sick and f*cking tired of you doing this. A fight? Seriously, Jer? What the hell happened to you? Mom and Dad died four months ago. Yeah, it sucks, but you need to get the f*ck over yourself before something worse happens."

"Sid-" Jeremy tried again.

"No." I was crying again, crying the kind of body-wracking sobs that just pour over your cheeks and sting at your eyes and leak out of every part of you. "No, you don't get to talk. You've been smoking or doing or whatever the hell it is that goes with crack- do you even know what that does to your body? I don't, but it's probably something really f*cking bad. You got in a fight, and _punched me in the face_, and now you think I'm just going to let you _walk home_ after Elena and I found _Mr. Tanner's dead body_. Well I've got news for you. I'm done. You're going to a shrink or rehab or I don't even know, but you're getting help. Now get in the goddamn car, and stop acting like such a whiney little bitch!"

And to my utter shock, Jeremy got into the car without another word.


	7. The End of the Beginning

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 7: The End of the Beginning  
A/N: Extra-long chapter this time. For this chapter I recommend listening to Geronimo by Sheppard, Save the World Tonight- Acoustic Version by Colin McLaughlin, and Houses by Great Northern. Enjoy and please leave a review!**

LINE BREAK

_October 17__th__, 2012  
Dear Diary,  
It wasn't an animal. I know it wasn't an animal. It was…. It had to be a human. Why would an animal come out of the woods and go all the way into town just to kill someone? The news this morning said it was a mountain lion, and that it was caught and killed, but I just can't believe that. It wasn't a what that killed Mr. Tanner, it was a who. And whoever did it is still out there.  
Sincerely,  
Sidney_

LINE BREAK

"You're coming," I told Anastasia over the phone Saturday afternoon, leaning against the window of my favorite (and I'm using this term loosely) of the few clothing stores in town. "It isn't an option, 'Stasia. You promised me you'd come like, a month ago."

Anastasia groaned. There was a strained sound from the piano she was probably sitting at, probably because she had just smacked the keys. Her first recital of the school year was in two weeks and I knew she was in practice overdrive. "Do I have to?" she asked. "The Founders' Party is always so _boring_-"

"My mom is rolling over in her grave right now," I sang, and then wrinkled my nose. "God, that was morbid. Look, the point is, this'll be fun, I promise. Bonnie is coming with us, so you know it's going to be a good party. Caroline ditched her for Damon."

"Did someone say my name?" a familiar voice quipped. I glanced up and raised my eyebrows when I saw Damon standing in front of me, hands in the pockets of his ever-present leather jacket.

"Uh, Anastasia?" I asked. "I've gotta go, but I'll um- I'll pick you up at six tomorrow for the party, which"- I narrowed my eyes at the phone- "you _are_ going to. Bye, love ya'."

"Love you too," Anastasia grumbled, and the call ended.

Damon smiled gratuitously. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," I repeated, a little suspicious. "What are you doing here?"

Damon shrugged, eyeing the bag I was holding in my hands. "I was at the Grille, saw you on the way to my car, figured I would stop by and say hello- Are you really gonna wear this to the Founders' Party?" I glared when I saw he was holding the gauzy, printed dress I had just bought. "White washes you out, you know."

I scoffed, snatching it out of his hands. I paused and frowned down at it. "Really?" I asked, shaking my head and staring at him with an eyebrow raised. "Then what do you suggest I wear, Mr. Fashion-Expert?"

"That was a lame comeback and you know it," he informed me, before cocking his head at the skin-tight, little black dress displayed in the store window. "I'd suggest something that a seven-year-old would be less likely to wear, like that little number."

"Emphasis on little," I said with a chuckle. "Seriously though, does white really wash me out?"

Damon quirked his lips and nodded. "Unfortunately enough, yes. You're still the sexiest chick I've ever seen, just so you know," he joked.

"As if," I laughed, punching him in the arm. "I don't think Caroline would be very happy to hear you say that, and I'm not blonde enough for your tastes, so…" I trailed off suggestively.

Damon shrugged, not bothering to correct me, and finally tapped the glass, motioning to a floaty, purple-and-cream mini dress. "Try that one. It'll make your legs look great."

He sniffed as I surveyed the dress closer (he was right about it, it was beautiful), and glanced up at the clock tower. "I'd better scram," he said, and smirked at me, doing the crazy-eyes thing again. "Caroline and I are spending the afternoon at her house… and probably the night too, just so you know."

"I didn't need to, but thanks for the disgusting mental image," I said with a slight laugh.

He nodded at me, chuckling, and called "Bye", before strolling away and hopping into a powder blue Mustang. With a heavy sigh of long-suffering I turned away, shaking my head with a small smile, and glanced at the dress again with a contemplative eye. Damon was right about one thing: that dress was a hell of a lot more breathtaking than the one I had gotten.

LINE BREAK

And he had also been right about it making my legs look great. They looked especially longer, I noticed as Bonnie, Elena and I got ready together the next evening, with a delicate pair of lavender kitten heels that were attached to my feet with silky ribbons.

"Geez, Sid," Bonnie said, meeting my reflection in the bedroom mirror as she braided my hair up into a loose bun. "Where did you get this dress? You look incredible."

I smiled bashfully and lifted a thumb to my mouth to bite on it. Elena slapped my hand aside at the last minute and glared pointedly. I scowled at her and folded my hands back on my lap. She hated it when I chewed my nails, and since she was the one who had painted them (I couldn't wield nail polish to save my life) I couldn't really blame her.

"A friend picked it out," I demurred at another glance from Bonnie. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror again and frowned. "Are you sure you can't see the bruise?"

"Yes, Sid, I'm sure," Elena said, fastening the necklace Stefan had given her around her neck. It was a gorgeous necklace; like something straight out of Victorian England. "You applied so much foundation we can barely see your freckles anymore."

"Is it too much?" I asked worriedly, leaning closer to the mirror.

"No, it's fine," Bonnie said, securing my hair with one last pin and surveying her work with a grin. "I'm good," she congratulated herself.

"You are good," I agreed, just as the doorbell rang. I sent a cheeky grin in Elena's direction. "There's your date," I said as she reached for the clutch purse she had borrowed from me for the night. "You'd better go."

"Knock 'em dead!" Bonnie called as Elena hurried down the stairs. She turned to me with a sigh. "We'd better get going. We have to pick Anastasia up, right?"

"Mm hmm," I agreed, checking my reflection one last time before turning to my bed and grabbing my own wristlet. "Her dad's out of town again."

"Why's he always gone?" Bonnie asked once we were in the car and backing down the driveway, windows rolled up for once to keep the wind from messing up our hair.

I frowned, turning on my blinker and looking both ways. "Business," I answered. "She didn't say much else. We don't really talk about it."

Bonnie hummed a reply and that was that. She of all people would know that sometimes family just wasn't on the table for conversation topics. With her mom MIA and her dad constantly busy with his job, Bonnie could understand that Anastasia tried not to think about her home life that much.

Anastasia looked gorgeous when we picked her up; her dress was floral, just like mine and Bonnie's, and turquoise blue with a sweet heart neckline and a chiffon skirt. She'd pulled her blond hair back in a bouncy, curly ponytail, and her cheeks were flushed when she got in the car.

Anastasia lived on the edge of town, only about five minutes from the Lockwoods', and it wasn't long before we arrived. Mrs. Lockwood met us at the door with one of her signature, sunny smiles.

"Sidney," she cooed happily, leaning in for a hug. I smiled when I smelled her perfume; Happy by Clinique. "You look wonderful. It's been too long, dear."

I pulled back with a toothy grin. "I know," I said. "But I'm better now."

Mrs. Lockwood pouted at me before turning to look at Bonnie and Anastasia, both of them standing awkwardly behind me. "Girls," she acknowledged. "You both look lovely."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lockwood," Bonnie said. Anastasia just smiled and blushed.

Mrs. Lockwood turned to me again and cocked her head slightly. "Sidney dear," she started, "I talked with Elena about the pocket watch and she said that she'd find it. Did she?"

"Pocket watch?" I repeated in confusion, and then I remembered. "Oh, right! The pocket watch…" Elena had left it with Jeremy. It was his, rightfully, but I doubted Mrs. Lockwood would be too happy to hear me say that, so instead I said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Lockwood, but no. She hasn't told me anything about it."

Mrs. Lockwood pouted again and then nodded. "Alright dear," she said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said with a fake grin, and led the way into the manor.

It was even more like a museum than usual this evening, with Mystic Falls antiques decorating every available surface in most of the rooms. Candle light flickered in the chandeliers and a sweet, flowery smell came from the pristine white roses that filled the cut crystal vases. The dessert table was heaped with cakes and other, fancier stuff I couldn't name that was making my mouth water. Most people were milling around the immaculate open bar, cocktail dresses and dress shirts flapping and making starchy, ironed crinkling sounds, gauzy fabric causing the fire light to seem… magical almost.

Bonnie swiped three flutes of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. "Here's to a boring night," she said, toasting Anastasia and I after handing us a glass each.

I giggled, we clinked our glasses together, and I hesitated for just a split second before tipping my glass back and drinking a cool gulp of fizz. I worried for a while that I would get sick again, but after two hours without incident, I figured I was going to be okay. The tea Stefan had given me must have been doing its job, and I told him so when I ran into him and Elena in the library at around eight, where all the antiques were on display.

"Oh, it's no problem," Stefan told me, seeming a little gratified. "I'm glad it's working."

"So am I," I said, glancing around the room with a smile. Everything there was breathtakingly beautiful, and I was tempted to take a picture, only to remember that Bonnie had forced me to leave my camera at home, saying that it "wasn't appropriate to bring to a party."

"This stuff is incredible," I said in an awed voice, freezing slightly when I spied Mom's wedding ring, stored in a little velvet box on a side table.

"I know, right?" Elena said, smiling. I grinned at her. This kind of party was right up her alley; I'd always thought she'd fit in better in the Antebellum era than in our time. She turned to me, eyebrows drawn together, and said, "Where're Bonnie and Anastasia?"

"Colin Fredrickson wanted to dance with 'Stasia," I answered, "and Bonnie found the dessert bar."

Elena and I shared an eye roll. Both of us knew how Bonnie was when it came to cake. I was surprised the girl hadn't rotted her teeth out with all the sugar she ate on a daily basis.

I glanced around the foyer and moved over to a framed piece of really old paper. It was the huge kind with the scrolling, fountain-penned letters with swirling ink; kind of like what pops into my head every time I think of the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution. It was the guest registry from the original Founders' Party back in the 1800's, I realized, my eyes widening. I squinted to make out the names, but I was having trouble; I couldn't read calligraphy very well. Elena had tried to teach me back in middle school but I hadn't caught on very easily.

"'The Founding Families of Mystic Falls welcome you to the inaugural Founders' Council Celebration'," Elena read over my shoulder, moving behind me with Stefan at her side.

I grinned at them and then looked back at the registry. "Would you look at that," I whistled, staring even harder at the familiar name. "Jonathan Gilbert- like Uncle John? Cool."

"Yeah," Elena said with a nod. "Lots of familiar names on here, like… Sheriff William Forbes."

"And Mayor Benjamin Lockwood."

"And Kenneth Fell."

"And Stefan and Damon Salvatore- Wait." I frowned and looked closer, then turned to Stefan with a confused raise of my eyebrow. "Stefan and Damon Salvatore? Did you…" I grinned slightly and looked at him pointedly. "Did you guys invent a… a time machine, or something?"

"The original Salvatore brothers."

I whipped my head around and saw that it was Damon waltzing into the otherwise-empty room we were standing in, Caroline trailing along behind him with a sugary smile pasted across her face. My eyes narrowed when I saw her. I didn't know why, but something in me didn't like that smile. It seemed… fake, almost.

"Our ancestors," Damon continued, toasting the registry with his glass of brandy. "Tragic story, actually."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued. I loved stories like this.

"We don't need to bore them with the stories of our past," Stefan said quickly, stepping forward. I frowned at the movement, sensing more than a little bit of tension between the two.

"No," I said, with a confused smile in Stefan's direction, moving forward to squeeze Damon's dress shirt-clad arm. "I love hearing about stuff like this. Continue," I said with a meaningful glance at Damon, "please."

Damon grinned at me in satisfaction, but before he could say anything else, Caroline piped up.

"Well, I'm bored," she said bluntly. "I want to dance, but Damon won't dance with me." She grinned at Elena. "Could I just… borrow your date?"

That was a social no no that even I could pick up on. Elena seemed shocked while Stefan cleared his throat awkwardly. I realized that my mouth was hanging open and shut it quickly. Damon just grinned. I got the feeling he loved the tension, and I elbowed him slightly, making him grumble under his breath.

"Oh, uh…" Elena glanced at Stefan, floundering for something to say.

"I don't dance," he hedged.

"Oh, sure he does," Damon corrected. "You should see him. The tango, the jitterbug, the moonwalk- he does it all."

"The jitterbug?" I repeated with a small chuckle, smirking at Stefan as I took another sip from my glass of iced tea, but everyone just ignored me- except Damon. I was pretty sure he was grinning.

"You wouldn't mind, would you, Elena?" Caroline prompted in a voice that confused me because I didn't hear it very often- especially not directed at _us_.

Elena hesitated for a minute before saying, "It's up to Stefan."

Well, as it turned out Caroline wasn't about to take no for an answer and dragged Stefan off to the dance floor that was apparently set up on the back patio, complete with live, string quartet. I wasn't the biggest fan of violin (or stuffy dances that I wasn't good at- aka waltzing) so I wasn't exactly interested.

Damon waited all of a split second before saying in a story-teller's voice, with a mischievous smirk at me: "Let's just say that the men in the Salvatore family have been cursed with sibling rivalry." He nodded at the framed registry Elena was still standing in front of. "And it all started with the original Salvatore brothers."

"Is this like, _Young and the Restless_ type drama?" I asked, biting my lip slightly. "Because, if so, please proceed."

"Better than _Young and the Restless_," Damon promised, stepping away from me and studying a scale model of Fell's church. "The Salvatore name has always been like royalty in this town… until the war. There was a battle here-"

"The Battle of Willow Creek," Elena interrupted flatly, staring at Damon with a cautious look on her face. I was confused; what was that all about? Was there some bad blood between Damon and Elena that I didn't know about? Because I may have liked Damon, but if he was messing with my sister, he was dead.

"You're right," Damon said, seeming impressed.

"We learned about it in history class," Elena explained, staring down at the glass of soda she was holding. "Confederate soldiers fired on a church with civilians inside, right?"

Damon nodded and said, "What the history books left out was that the civilians in that church… weren't there by accident." He nodded at the model of the church; I was officially intrigued. I loved History. "The civilians were believed to be Union sympathizers. Some of the Founders who were Confederate supporters back then wanted them rounded up and burned alive."

Damon's tone got darker then. He stopped smiling at me, frowning down at the model of the church with this… haunted look in his eyes. "The Salvatore brothers had someone they loved very much in that church. And when they went to rescue that person, they were shot." He looked up at Elena then, and I started to feel extremely uncomfortable for some reason. "Murdered in cold blood."

I sucked in a deep rattling breath, the oxygen feeling tight and painful in my chest. "Who- Who was in the church… that they wanted to save?" I asked softly, making Damon look at me again. Both of us were frowning and my lips were slightly parted. His were set in a thin line.

"A woman, I guess," he said with a small, bitter smile. "Doesn't it always come down to the love of a woman?"

A million thoughts were running through my head at that moment, so many that I couldn't pin one down and focus on it, so many that I couldn't remember any of them and the only thing I could focus on was the cold feeling in my chest and the piercing intensity of Damon's bright blue eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry you and Stefan have this thing between you," Elena said suddenly, totally ruining the mood, "but I can't get in the middle of it, Damon." He chuckled and looked away from me, meeting her serious eyes. "I just…" Elena paused and looked at him. "I just hope you two can work things out."

"I hope so too," Damon said softly, before turning to me and clearing his throat, straightening his shoulders.

He was doing that thing again: that thing where he didn't want to keep talking when the subject got too intense. I decided I didn't like it when he did that; it meant he was hiding from his feelings, I thought. But then again, I didn't know him well enough to assume anything about him, now did I?

Damon glanced at me and grinned slightly, taking my hand. "Come on," he said, cocking his head at the door. "Let's go save Stefan."

I bristled a bit, because Damon had just implied that Stefan would need saving from Caroline, which meant that Damon thought something not-so-nice about Caroline- but I was probably just being too uptight. Damon escorted Elena and me through the house to the back porch, and I smiled when I realized that band was playing jazz and not classical music. They even had a singer; a tall, red-headed woman with a smoky, bluesy voice. Twinkle lights were strung up everywhere, and Damon snagged Elena and me flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. I didn't even bother telling him I didn't drink again and poured my glass into a nearby potted plant.

Stefan and Caroline smiled at us when we approached, and Damon immediately slid an arm around Caroline's waist, asking, "What'd we miss?" with a charming smile.

"We were just chatting," Stefan answered with a grin at Caroline that made me raise my eyebrows. About what, exactly?

"Drink, Damon?" Stefan probed, lifting a glass of champagne in his brother's direction. It sounded like a challenge, for some reason.

"I'm alright," Damon said silkily.

Elena turned to Stefan then and said, "Do you have another dance in you?" to which he replied immediately, "Absolutely", and they waltzed away without further ado.

I watched them go with a laugh and a warm smile before turning back to Damon. "They're so good together," I said, frowning a bit when I noticed he was still looking in their direction. "You okay?"

He shook his head. "Yeah… Yes, just déjà vu." He smiled at me and offered his arm to Caroline. "We'll be right back," he told me, strolling away. "I have to check up on something for a minute."

"I await with bated breath," I said flatly.

LINE BREAK

It didn't take very long for him to find me again. When he did, I was standing at the dessert bar, wondering if I wanted to chance getting sick for a chocolate-covered strawberry. I had just made up my mind that it would be worth it when someone tapped on my shoulder and made me turn around.

Predictably, Damon stood behind me, hand open in an invitation.

"Would milady care to dance?" he asked playfully.

I raised an eyebrow and smirked, giving an ungraceful curtsy. "Your lady would," I joked, placing my hand in his and letting him tow me onto the dance floor.

The string quartet had started playing this dreamy, kind of bluesy song that involved a lot of piano, and their singer sounded sweet and innocent somehow, although I may have just been reeling from the party high. Damon and I swayed back and forth in an awkward box step just like everybody else was. I suddenly remembered why I hated dancing so much.

"You are really bad at this," Damon commented after I had stepped on his shiny black dress shoes for the second time in a row.

I winced and dropped his hands, taking a step back. "I know, I'm sorry," I told him, blowing out an irritated puff of air. "I really hate dancing."

"That sucks, because I love dancing."

"Oh, quit acting so high and mighty," I said with a grin as Damon and I meandered off of the dance floor and stood next to one of the support pillars of the deck's roof. "You're not much better that I am."

Damon snorted. "At least I can get through five minutes without bodily harming my partner."

I opened my mouth to retort but never got the chance. Elena came storming up to us then, a furious look on her face and a struggling Caroline being pulled along behind her.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, you sick, twisted weirdo?" Elena hissed, smacking Damon in the chest.

"Elena?" I asked, staring between her and Caroline, who was starting to cry now, in abject confusion and with a growing sense of dread. "What's going on?"

Elena turned to me, still scowling, and jerked Caroline forward, ripping the cardigan she was wearing away and displaying the painful, deep-looking crescent moon on her shoulder; teeth marks.

"Bites, Sidney," Elena stressed, finally letting Caroline rip away from her and jerk her cardigan back over her shoulders. "And bruises, _all over_ Caroline. And _he_"- she glared balefully at Damon, hand raised like she wanted to slap him- "is the one who put them there."

"What?" I whispered, casting a confused stare at Damon, not understanding. And then it clicked.

"Oh my God." I bit my lip and backed a few steps away from him. "Oh my God," I repeated.

"Sidney-" he started, but I shook my head and cut him off.

"No," I said in a rasping voice, shaking my head. "No. Don't even- don't even _try_\- You asshole!" I smacked him in the chest, _hard_ this time. This time, I actually wanted it to hurt. "You sick, twisted asshole! That's _disgusting_. Caroline's a minor, and you're taking out your weird-ass fetishes on her? My God, you need some serious help, buddy."

Caroline gave a sob then, making me look at her again. She was visibly shaking, staring at Damon in fear. She gave another sob before dashing off before either Elena or I could grab her.

"Caroline!" Elena called. She started after her, paused, and then whirled around to smack Damon's chest again. "Stay away," she warned with one last glare, before running in the direction Caroline had disappeared in as fast as she could.

"Sidney-" Damon tried to say again.

"No." I shook my head, refusing to even look at him. "Look, I thought you were a cool guy and everything. Hell, I've been trying to be friends with you for over a week now- but you are some kind of sadistic dick, and I don't want you going anywhere near my sister, my family, my friends, or me. Got it?"

Damon stared at me for a moment before a bitter, mocking smile curved up the edges of his mouth. He held his hands up in surrender and edged away from me. "Got it," he quipped, before disappearing into the dark.

I wondered if that was the last time I would ever see him again.


	8. The Relationsip Conundrum

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 8: The Relationship Conundrum  
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so late! My computer hasn't been working very well lately so I had to upload this at school. Daylight by 5 Seconds of Summer and Ain't it Fun by Paramore are great songs and fit this chapter very well- hint, hint. Damon isn't going to be making an appearance in this chapter, unfortunately, but leave a review anyways please.**

* * *

_October 21__st__, 2012_

_Dear Diary,  
It's been four days. Stefan says I'm not going to see Damon again- and that's good, right? I mean, he's been __abusing__ Caroline, one of my closest friends. He's a dick. I should be happy he's gone. But as horrible as it sounds… I just feel… hollow, I guess? I don't know. It's not like we were close or anything. We were barely even friends, to be honest. I think I maybe just liked the way I could talk to him. It felt like he just sort of got me, you know?  
Whatever. He's gone now, and I say good riddance.  
Anastasia's been acting weird lately. I keep remembering how weird I thought it was that she was so against me being around Damon. But I guess she was right. It's funny, almost, in a weird way.  
Anyway, like I said, she's been acting weird lately. It's almost like she's been avoiding me since the Founders' Party. It's just weird.  
Sincerely,  
Sidney_

* * *

I opened my locker and let out a low sigh, staring at the pictures taped to the door with unseeing eyes. Caroline stood at my shoulder, chattering on about the car-wash fundraiser she was organizing to raise money for the cheer squad and football team- and the band too, I think. I don't know, it was called "Sexy Suds" or something, and I didn't exactly care.

As dumb as it was, I couldn't get Damon off my mind. Hell, my eighteenth birthday was in four days, and I was barely even excited.

God, I was really starting to hate Damon!

I scowled at my locker and shut it with a clang, forcing a fake smile onto my face and trying to pay attention to what Caroline was saying to me.

"I'm thinking about wearing my green bikini- the new one that I got at the end of the summer. But I don't have pants that go with it and it's going to be chilly, so I think I'll go with the pink one. I can wear shorts with that one- and the white halter top, too."

"Mm hmm," I hummed, already starting down the hallway to the cafeteria.

Was Caroline really just going to pretend that everything was okay? That Damon never existed? That the bruises on her neck she was covering up with foundation every morning weren't from his harsh bites? I'd seen the state she was in when Elena and I found her before we left the party; sobbing, clutching at the fresh blood coated across her throat and shoulder, sobbing hysterically-

Someone stepped out in front of me, making me pay attention to the world around me again. It was Stefan.

"Hey," he said to me with a small, awkward smile, nodding at Caroline in recognition.

She grinned and examined the ends of her hair for spilt ends. "Stefan," she acknowledged, tossed the strand of hair back over her shoulder, waved at me, and flitted into the cafeteria.

I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Can I help you?" I asked flatly.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and stared down at his shoes. "So… Elena's mad at me," he started. She had been complaining extensively about him to me ever since the party. It was just a little bit annoying. "And I was wondering… I mean, you're her sister, so do you know how I can make it up to her?"

I debated flat out refusing and leaving him to rot, but I knew I couldn't do that. Elena was driving herself crazy, stressing out about Stefan, and I was sick of seeing her so conflicted. The truth was that I liked Stefan: I didn't know much about him, but I trusted him with my sister… at least, I did _now_, I thought… The point was, despite being brooding, angsty, grouchy and annoying, he was good for my sister, and in my opinion, they were good together.

So, reluctantly, I lead Stefan to an empty picnic table on the front lawn of the school and swung up into a seat, the weathered wood scratching at the bare skin of my legs, revealed by the skirt of the dress I had chosen to wear that day.

"Alright," I groaned. "I'll help." I stared at him for a minute as he took a seat next to me on the table. "So she's mad at you because she feels like you're keeping secrets from her."

"I hate it," Stefan admitted pensively, staring out at the football field, "but there's no helping it. She says she wants to get to know me- _all_ of me."

I blinked at him in confusion. That was a new one. "Wait. She wants to have sex with you?"

"No!" Stefan told me immediately. "No, she doesn't want to have sex with me. That's not it at all. She… she just feels like she doesn't know that much about me."

"Oh," I said, feeling like an idiot. "Okay, so just tell her about yourself. You know, the basics: Favorite movies, music, color, food, _Katherine_." I gave him a pointed look. I didn't know everything about his ex-girlfriend and his shaky relationship with his jackass of an older brother, but something told me the two were linked- what with the way Damon talked about it.

"You know about that," Stefan stated, a little surprised.

"_Everyone _knows about it," I dead-panned, my face completely blank. Honestly, how clueless could he be? "Your brother sure talks about it enough."

My face soured then, remembering just how stupid I felt when I thought about Damon. It was embarrassing how I had tagged along after him, all happy-go-lucky, thinking we were friends, not realizing what he had been doing to Caroline behind my back. It was my fault, now I thought about it, and that just put me in an even worse mood.

Stefan stared at me for a minute. "You two were friends, weren't you?" he asked uncertainly.

"I wouldn't say friends," I mumbled, glancing down at my favorite pair of boots with a scowl.

Because we weren't friends. I had thought that we were on the verge, after talking at the football game, and I had thought we were there, that night at the Founders' Party, but then it had all blown up in my face and a shit-storm of epic proportions had occurred and now Damon was the king of a country called Douche Bag-istan and I wanted nothing to do with him.

"Right, right." Stefan inhaled loudly and awkwardly and folded his hands, squeezing them between his knees. "Well, uh…" He fixed me with a pointed stare, his brown eyes dilated and serious. "It's good he's gone, Sidney," he told me. "You know that, right? That he's dangerous?"

"Right," I said quickly. "I knew that. You don't have to tell me twice."

That wasn't right; I could still barely believe it.

"Sidney," Stefan said again, making me look back up at him. There was an insistent look on his face. "If… If Damon ever _does_ come back"- he reached up hesitantly and squeezed my shoulders for an instant- "then you need to stay away from him. I'm not saying he's coming back," he added, noticing the way my eyes narrowed, "but if he does, you have to keep your distance. For your own sake. He's dangerous."

I gulped down a breath and leaped to my feet, shivering a little bit in the sudden October breeze that passed across the school lawn. "I will," I promised Stefan, shouldering my book bag. For some reason, it suddenly felt like Damon wasn't the only dangerous Salvatore brother. "I'd better get to class. Good luck with Elena."

"Thanks for your help," Stefan called as I made a beeline for my Government and Economy class.

I guess I thought that if I could walk fast enough I could leave my irrational paranoia behind me, but no luck; Damon was still on my mind when I walked through the door, only for him to be football-tackled out of my brain when I saw two very familiar faces sharing a quick kiss in the back of the otherwise-empty classroom.

Andrew and Anastasia.

This day was just the world's biggest mind-f*ck, wasn't it?

They hadn't noticed me yet, and I more than definitely didn't want to deal with that at the moment, so I slipped away quietly and resolved to just spend the rest of the day watching romantic comedies and to hell with school.

* * *

"Wow! Hi. Okay, what are you doing in my room?"

You could hardly blame me for being so shocked. I had just gotten out of the shower (not wearing a shirt, mind you) to find Jeremy sitting awkwardly on the edge of my bed, flipping through the Polaroids I had just printed off. He glanced up and blanched when he saw the state I was in, hiding his face in his hands and saying, "Jesus, Sidney! Put a shirt on!"

"Don't just waltz into my room without knocking," I replied hotly, quickly pulling on a sweater and folding my arms over my stomach.

"What do you want?" I asked pointedly, still not over what had happened at the football game. The bruises may have faded, but my anger towards my brother hadn't.

We had just sort of been skirting around each other for the past week or so. It wasn't anything new- we hadn't ever been close, exactly. But I did miss Jeremy and my exchanges of snarky comments. With Damon gone (hopefully for good) I had no one to take my sarcasm and iron-edged wit out on.

Jeremy groaned and chanced a glance around his hands. Seeing me fully clothed (and scowling, might I add) he apparently felt safe enough to put his hands down completely and shoot me a puppy dog-eyes look. "Look Sid," he said uncomfortably, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I snapped, still not ready to forgive him completely.

"You heard me and I'm not saying it again," he told me with a frown. "The point is, I've been an ass lately and I'm sorry."

"Understatement of the century," I muttered.

I sighed lowly and contemplated him; he _sounded_ sincere- and this was _Jeremy_ for God's sakes! I really should just go ahead and forgive him… Only he was still hurting- I could see that. I mean, so was I- and I knew Elena was, too. But our coping methods weren't self-destructive and I couldn't stand losing my brother, too.

"Look Jeremy," I started, uncertain how this was going to turn out, "I forgive you, but I meant what I said: This has to stop. It's not good for you!"

"I know, Sid!" he snapped suddenly. "I know! I get it. I…" He trailed off and groaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I get it, okay?" he said again, softer this time.

I watched him warily. I didn't exactly have any experience with addicts, but something told me it was going to take a lot more than this to fix my little brother.

"Okay," I said finally, deciding to just leave it up to him and hope for the best. "I'm trusting you on this." I opened my arms wide. "Now give me a hug."

He did (if a little awkwardly) and I couldn't help softly smiling into his floppy hair before we pulled back. I had missed him for the past four months, and it felt… It almost felt like things were starting to get back to normal.

I scowled then, remembering what I had seen earlier that day that had sent me running, and reconsidered that statement.

So maybe not _everything_ was back to normal.

Anastasia had been trying to get in touch with me all day, but I had just been ignoring her texts and letting her calls go to voice mail. She was smart; of course she would know something was wrong when I didn't show up to class, and if she and Andrew had been together for a while now, then she probably suspected that I had found out about it.

"What's wrong?" Jeremy asked. "You have your angry-collie face on."

"I do _not_," I insisted, huffing at him. "It's nothing. Just- it's dumb, okay?"

"Tell me anyway," Jeremy drawled, thumbing through my Polaroids again.

With a sighed "gah", I lolled across my bed (kicking him lightly in the head with my bare foot, making him curse at me and smack my leg away) and said, "You know how I've kind of been in love with Andrew Deveraux for like, ever?"

Jeremy's face paled. "Shit. Please don't tell me this is about boy problems."

I kicked him again. "Shut up. You volunteered for this," I reminded him. "Whatever. It's- like I said, it's dumb. I don't even… Anyways. So I guess he and Anastasia are dating or something, because I saw them kissing when I walked into Gov and Econ this morning."

"Which is why you skipped school," Jeremy guessed.

"Yeah," I admitted. "Just… too much to deal with, you know?"

"I do." He grumbled something in the back of his throat and set down a picture of Elena and I with sparklers in our hands two Fourth of Julys ago. "I'm probably not the best person to give advice, you know."

"I know," I assured him. "Trust me, I know. Just…" I bit my lip and sighed. "I should go talk to her, shouldn't I?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah, I should."

"Suit yourself."

"Tell Jenna and Elena where I've gone."

"I'll do that."

Jeremy sighed once I had left the room and lay back in my bed. "Sisters, man," he said to the ceiling. "F*cking sisters."

* * *

The temperature had dropped with the sun by the time I pulled up to Anastasia's house. I shivered my way out of my car and onto her front porch, regretting my decision to wear loose pajama shorts to bed that night.

Crickets were chirping softly as I rang the doorbell. They hadn't died yet, and years and years back, on a camping trip I could barely remember, Dad had told me that meant there was another warm front coming before winter completely set in. I wasn't looking forward to it; I was always stuck in bed with a bad cold come November, and without Mom's famous tomato soup, I might actually die.

Anastasia looked surprised to see me when she swung the front door open. She recovered from it almost immediately though and said, "Sid, what are you doing here? Where were you today?"

I hesitated. This was my best friend, so I shouldn't go off on her and start screaming, but she had been _kissing Andrew_, so yeah- I was pissed! And I wasn't the best at talking to people, unlike Elena, so this could either blow up in my face and end with Anastasia and me crying, or blow up in my face and end with Anastasia and me crying. Neither of those options was very appealing to me.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second, trying to come up with something to say.

"Are you and Andrew dating?" I blurted out, and then immediately cursed myself. That hadn't come out right.

Anastasia looked shocked again- and then she looked horrified. "Sidney, I am _so_ sorry," she began. "I… We didn't want you to find out like this… How did you even find out? We haven't told anyone, and-"

"Kissing in the middle of school?" I told her flatly. "Not your smartest decision ever."

"I told him it wasn't a good idea!" Anastasia's face had turned that dark, purple-ish red color that it always did whenever she was angry, or flustered, or embarrassed, or… well, it turned that color a lot of the time.

"I… I…" She leaned across the threshold and squeezed my hands tightly. "Sidney, I'm so sorry-"

"Save it." I held up a hand, stopping her, using the other one to squeeze the bridge of my nose and stop the oncoming head ache. I bit my lip and sighed breathily. "Just… How long has this been going on for?"

Anastasia sighed and cocked her head at the doorway. I followed her into the house and took a seat across from her on the leather ottoman. Usually, we curled up together on the striped, yellow and blue couch. She seemed to hesitate when she saw the distance between us, but tucked her hair behind her ear and perched on the couch.

"You have to understand," she started apologetically, "Andrew's had a crush on me ever since we were kids."

I flinched at that. It was like she had rammed a sharp icicle straight into my chest. Was she trying to rub it in that he liked her and not me?

Anastasia didn't seem to notice my reaction and continued, "And… And well, you know me!" She floundered to find a way to explain herself. "I don't _date_ people- you're practically the only person I talk to!" She glanced at me desperately. "But I… Over the summer, you just _left_, Sidney. You weren't there and I didn't know what to do, and I felt _so_ bad about it, but Andrew was there and you weren't and we just sort of…" She smiled slightly. "Clicked."

Anastasia had seemed different this year- not to the point where it was overtly noticeable, but definitely different once I was paying attention. There was this glow about her; happy and yellow and warm. She was more confident and daring, cracking more jokes and even poking fun at my flaws every once in a while. And then there were the looks she had been giving when she thought no one was looking; the dreamy, gooey-eyed looks that didn't make any sense until she talked about Andrew, because that was the same look she got when she heard his name.

What kind of friend would I be if I took that away from her?

"A shitty one," I mumbled under my breath.

"What?" Anastasia asked, looking at me like she was wondering if I had gone insane.

"It's nothing," I said, blushing slightly and shaking my head. I looked at her seriously, tugging at the end of my damp braid. "Why didn't you tell me?" I finally asked.

Anastasia hesitated for a minute. Her eyes flickered from me to the floor to her hands and then back to me.

"I was scared," she admitted. "I knew you liked Andrew- we both did," she clarified, making me cringe. Had I really been that obvious?"

"I just…" Anastasia trailed off guiltily and furrowed her brow, tugging at a loose strand of blond hair. "I just didn't want you to get hurt."

"Well you kind of hurt me anyway," I told her bluntly. I motored on before she could say anything else. "I mean seriously? Is that what you think of me? You think I'd… I'd blow up at you or… or ruin your reputation or whatever else it is they do to each other on _Pretty Little Liars_?"

In my opinion, there's a difference between wet-angry and dry-angry. Dry-angry is when you just blatantly hate the person you're angry at; when you're so angry you just lose all emotion and don't give a shit anymore. Wet-angry, however, is when you care _too much_; when you're crying as you're angry because someone you love really hurt you and you don't know how to make things right. This was wet-angry.

"No!" Anastasia said hastily. "No, Sid, that's not it at all."

"Then what is it?" I demanded. My voice caught in my throat because Anastasia and Andrew were dating and Damon was a dick and I just felt so _stupid_-

"I'm sorry, okay?" Anastasia said shrilly. "It wasn't right of me and I hurt you and betrayed you and I just… Sidney, I am _so _sorry. I can break up with Andrew if you want me to-"

I shook my head, cutting her off. "I'm not going to ask you to do that," I told her quietly. "I'm not that big of a bitch."

"I never said you were," Anastasia assured me. She leaned toward me like she wanted to hug me but wasn't sure if I would let her. Finally, she jumped up jerkily and went in for the kill: a bone-crushing, suffocating squeeze that broke the dam and made me start bawling.

God dammit.

One thing you should know about me if you're going to keep reading this story is that I hate crying. I don't do it very often, mostly because I try not to, but when I do, it's not pretty. There isn't such a thing as a pretty cry- not even Elena looks like a human being when she's full-on sobbing! In my case, my eyes get red and blood-shot, my face gets all blotchy, and snot comes out me like I'm Niagra Falls. By the time I was done, the t-shirt Anastasia was wearing had a huge wet spot on the shoulder. I was pretty sure she was crying, too.

She pulled back and stared at me seriously. I could see the tears leaking out of her eyes. "I am so sorry," she told me.

I nodded and gave a slight smile. "I forgive you."

She pulled me into another hug, and this time I embraced her right back. When we pulled apart again there were shit-eating grins on both of our faces.

I ended up spending the night, the two of us curled up on Anastasia's bed with _Gossip Girl_ on a constant loop via her Netflix account, and not once did Damon cross my mind.


	9. The Call of the Wild

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 9: The Call of the Wild  
A/N: I'm so sorry about the wait! I had laryngitis for a few weeks and just sort of lost inspiration for this story, and this was a really difficult chapter to write, but don't worry, I'm back. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please leave a review! I recommend listening to Raised by Wolves by U2 for the end of this chapter. I am obsessed with that song right now! Also, head over to my page and check out Damsel in Distress Story Bits if you're interested in seeing deleted scenes, alternate endings, different POV's, and extra chapters; and comment for a sneak peek of the next chapter!**

The rest of that week was quiet… at least that's what it seemed like. Elena was unusually jumpy and skittish, freaking out whenever I came up behind her without her noticing or whenever someone mentioned Stefan, who had apparently decided to keep a low profile.

I had seen him all of one time that week, and that had only been so he could tell me that Damon was back in town and I should keep my distance if I knew what was good for me. I didn't exactly need him to tell me that- I wasn't an idiot. I wanted nothing to do with the asshole known as Damon Salvatore.

I woke up Friday morning with a piercing head ache and the smell of burning ham in my nose. With a suspicious frown, I hopped out of bed, sluggishly got dressed, grabbed my camera and headed downstairs where I was confronted with the sight of Elena, Jeremy, and Jenna, all in their pj's and wildly trying to fan smoke away from something burning on the stove top.

"What's going on?" I asked them warily.

Jenna whirled around to face me, dropping a silver mixing bowl with a crash, and exclaimed, "Sidney! What are you doing up?"

"Um, there's school today," I informed her. "What are you three doing?"

Elena exchanged a look with Jeremy, grinned sheepishly, and switched off the stove top. "Happy birthday," she tried weakly.

In honor of my eighteenth birthday, Elena, Jeremy, and Aunt Jenna had woken up early in an attempt to make bacon and pancakes. Unfortunately enough, I was the only one of us even remotely able to cook something without setting the house on fire, so it hadn't turned out too well. But in my opinion, it was the thought that counted, and it was sweet of them to try.

We ate cereal that morning (only Jenna had forgotten to grab milk from the grocery store so we just picked at dry Fruit Loops and coffee) and Jeremy decided to hitch a ride with Elena and me for some reason or another. I felt a connection with him, sort of, after our talk a few days ago. It was nice.

Corbin met me in the front hallway when I walked into the school building to congratulate me for being legal now and to tell me that he was definitely coming to my birthday dinner that night. He also mentioned how "out of nowhere" it was that Anastasia and Andrew were publicly dating now. I just shrugged. I still didn't know how I felt about their relationship, and tried my hardest to just avoid talking or thinking about it. Andrew was coming to my birthday dinner that night though, and so was Anastasia (of course), so I'd have to face the music at some point.

Everyone seemed to know that it was my birthday. Caroline sought me out before first period to give me a huge hug (she would be at dinner, too), and my soccer team mates had decorated my locker door with sparkly wrapping paper, streamers, silly string and balloons. Taped to the front was a sign that read: LOVE YOU SID. HAPPY 18TH! Even Mr. West wished me a happy birthday when I came through the classroom door.

He was acting… odd that day, I thought. Throughout the entirety of first period he kept shooting me weird glances, like he was expecting me to do a flip or something. And during my free period, when I was working on some pages for the yearbook, he treated me like a wild animal that could jump up and bite him at any moment. It was weird to say the least, but maybe I was just being paranoid.

By the time school was over for the day, I felt bland, tired, and ready to get home.

"You ready?" I asked Elena when I met her at my locker, our fellow students surging past us in the hallway.

She shifted awkwardly in my combat boots (she had borrowed them without asking again) and scratched her neck. "About that," she began. "Stefan's taking me home."

I blinked. Weren't they broken up? "Stefan?" I repeated. "I thought…"

"Yeah, well…" Elena shook her head and sighed. "He wants to talk. I'll be home in two hours or so, so don't worry. Love you. Bye. Happy birthday."

"Love you too," I mumbled as she walked off, and closed my locker with a clang, one of the streamers fluttering up to tickle my nose.

As far as birthdays went, this had been a pretty good one so far- even if there had been a few bumps along the way. I actually sort of enjoyed riding home by myself, blasting the Rolling Stones at full volume with all the windows rolled down. By the time I pulled into the driveway, my hair was a mess and there was a huge grin on my face.

It disappeared the second I walked into the kitchen.

Vicki Donovan, who was supposed to be missing, was sitting in our kitchen, eating our food, and acting like she was on drugs. Now that I thought about it, she probably was.

"Shit, Jeremy," I said loudly, noticing my younger brother standing to the side awkwardly, watching Vicki in concern. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" he told me wildly, running a hand through his already rumpled hair. "She… I don't know what's wrong with her, Sid. She just showed up and I invited her in."

I frowned at Vicki, who was steadily ignoring us, wearing sunglasses and hunched over in a corner of the kitchen, and crouched down to her level.

"Vicki," I said slowly, "what are you doing here? Everyone's looking for you."

"I can't go back home," Vicki insisted in a slightly-slurred voice, shaking her head. "I just can't."

"O-okay," I said softly, still not really sure what in hell she had meant by that. I turned to Jeremy. "Look after her, will you?"

He nodded and I got to my feet and ran up the stairs, dumping my book bag on my bedroom floor and flipping open my cellphone. I scrolled through the contacts until I found Matt's number, and hit the call button.

It rang four times before he picked up. "Hello?" It sounded like he was driving.

"Matt?" I said. "Hey, it's Sidney Gilbert. I, um… I know it's weird for me to call me like this, but your sister is kind of eating everything in our kitchen right now."

There was a short pause before Matt said, in a panicked voice, "Oh my God, what? Vicki? Is she okay?"

"I don't think she's injured," I told him quickly, before he could have a panic attack, "but she's acting high. I actually think she might be on drugs right now."

"Oh my God," Matt said again. The brakes of his car squealed in the background and I assumed he had just made a U-turn (probably an illegal one) and was headed our way. "Look after her, okay? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Sure, Matt," I said, smiling slightly at my tired reflection in the vanity mirror, running a hand through my mussed hair.

"Sidney?" Matt said.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Thanks."

I smiled again. "It's no problem," I told him, ending the call and heading back downstairs before it could get awkward. Matt and I weren't exactly friends- more like acquaintances who knew each other through Elena.

Vicki was in the same place I had left her when I went upstairs: crouched between two of the cabinets, out of the way of any sunshine filtering through the closed curtains, Jeremy standing over her, watching in abject fascination as she munched through an entire box of Little Debbie's snack cakes.

I crouched down to her level and bit my lip, calling, "Vicki?" She glanced up at me. "Hey… What happened to you?"

Vicki whimpered and jumped to her feet, so fast she almost head-butted me. She clutched a hand to her sunglasses and stumbled over to our fridge, jerking the door open and riffling through what was left. Jenna had just stocked up on groceries, so Vicki must have been eating quite a lot.

If she had touched my doughnuts I was going to shank her.

"I- I just can't right now," Vicki said, emerging with a jar of pickles. "The light- the light, it's hurting my eyes!"

Jeremy and I shared a concerned frown just as we heard the front door swing open and Elena's voice call, "Hello? Anyone home?"

"We're in here!" Jeremy hollered.

A few seconds later, Elena's head popped out from around the corner. Her eyes widened when she saw Vicki and she hurried into the room, closely followed by Stefan, who I frowned at.

He ignored me, staring at Vicki in shock, and Elena demanded, "What's going on?"

I glanced at Jeremy. "That's a really good question."

"I don't know," Jeremy stressed, sounding like he was about to crack. "She just showed up! And what was I supposed to do? Just leave her outside?"

"You could have called the police!" Elena cried. "I mean, God, Jer! She's been missing for two days now. Did you even think about calling her family?"

"Hey!" I called sharply. "Cut it out, Lena. Jeremy didn't know what to do. It's fine. I told Matt. He's on his way right now."

Stefan, who I had nearly forgotten was even there, rubbed a hand against the sleeve of his leather jacket and said, "Regardless, I've dealt with this kind of thing before. Jeremy, I'll take Vicki up to your room and let her get some rest until Matt gets here."

He led Vicki gently up the stairs, and Elena turned to Jeremy with a wary frown. As I watched, she sighed and pulled him into a hug, letting go when Stefan came back down.

A few minutes of awkward silence passed before the doorbell rang. I volunteered to get it and hurried through the entrance hallway, eager to get away from the tense atmosphere in the kitchen.

"Where is she?" Matt demanded the second I opened the door.

_Well, hello to you too._

"She's upstairs," I told him, leading the way into the house.

He nodded and made his way up to Jeremy's room. I walked back into the kitchen.

"Matt's here," I told the others. "He went to get Vicki."

Jeremy nodded glumly, his dark eyebrows knit together.

"Don't worry," Elena told him softly, squeezing his shoulder. "She'll be fine."

We could all hear the uncertainty in her voice.

Just then, there was a rhythmic clattering sound as Matt bolted back down the stairs. He whipped into the kitchen, blue eyes wide and chiseled features flushed.

"It's Vicki," he said. "She's gone."

* * *

Elena wouldn't let us freak out. Instead, she forced us to stay calm and celebrate my birthday the way we had planned- "and at least _try_ to have fun. You're eighteen today for God's sake!"- but as Aunt Jenna drove my siblings and me to the Grille, I still didn't feel quite up to it.

Stefan had gone home after wishing me a happy birthday, and Matt had set out to look for Vicki. I saw it in Jeremy's face that he wanted to be searching for her, too.

"You can go, you know," I told him in the backseat of Jenna's car. "I don't mind."

Jeremy shook his head. "No. Elena would kill me."

I shrugged, and we were quiet the rest of the way to the Grille.

It was kind of awkward once we got there, when Anastasia and Andrew greeted me with their arms around each other, but I pretended like I was okay with it. Corbin shot me a knowing glance from where he was sitting between Bonnie and Colin.

It actually turned out to be a pretty fun night. Corbin kept rattling off jokes that had us all in hysterics, and I think even Jeremy cracked a smile once or twice. I started to get a caffeine buzz from the iced coffee I had ordered, and the food was, as always, delicious. That familiar, fuzzing feeling that I always got around these people was in my chest, and my cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. By the time we opened presents, Vicki was the furthest thing from my mind.

"You didn't have to get me anything," I whined at Bonnie and Caroline when they presented me with a box wrapped in my favorite shade of robin's egg blue and tied with a silky, silver ribbon.

"Shut up," Caroline scoffed. "Of course we did! We've been friends since we were in diapers." She rolled her eyes, fighting back giggles.

"Open the damn box," Bonnie added with a playful grin.

I tore the wrapping paper open and nearly cried when I saw a scrap book filled with pictures of our shared childhood. The Dunkin' Doughnuts gift card my team mates gave me afterward didn't even come close to being as awesome, and Sutter admitted it. I was extremely thankful for their gift, though. I didn't exactly have a job, so I needed _something_ to fuel my doughnut/coffee addiction.

Next were Corbin, Andrew, and Colin, who presented me with a luxurious new camera bag, and Anastasia, who gave me a vintage-looking necklace that I had been drooling over at the mall a few weeks ago. Elena and Jeremy had pitched in to get me the Polaroid camera that I had been eying, and Jenna handed me a black, velvet jewelry box.

With an inquisitive frown, I cracked it open and immediately gasped when I saw the tarnished, silver ring sitting on a silk pillow.

"Jenna!" I said breathlessly, carefully taking out the delicate piece of jewelry and holding it up to the light. The others crowded around to see it better. "This is gorgeous!"

And it was. A blood red stone was set into the face, and faded writing was etched around the band. It smelled faintly of flowers, for some reason, which I found odd.

"It's incredible," I said again. "I can't… I mean, it's- it's…" There were just no words.

I didn't know what else to say. I'd never seen anything like it. Where on Earth had she gotten it from?

"It's a family heirloom," Jenna explained, answering my silent question as I tried the ring on for size. At first I thought it was a little loose, but a second later I realized that it fit perfectly. "It goes to the oldest Gilbert child of every generation when they 'come of age'… Your dad left it for you."

I felt like crying again. Dad's ring. This had been my Dad's ring.

"Thank you," I finally sniffed, Anastasia squeezing my hand under the table and Elena rubbing my shoulder gently.

Jenna smiled softly at me. I thought she was about to cry, too. "It's no problem, kid."

Almost an hour later, there was a familiar prickling feeling on the back of my neck that told me someone was staring at me. I turned, eyes roving the room, and scowled when they zeroed in on one Damon Salvatore, who gave me a mocking wiggle of his fingers from his seat at the crowded bar.

"I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back," I mumbled in Elena's ear.

She nodded and made to get up. "Want me to come with you?"

"No, it's cool," I replied hastily. She wouldn't take too kindly to an encounter with Damon. Neither would I, for that matter. "I'll only be a minute."

Elena nodded and turned back to her conversation with Caroline, and I drew my shirt tighter around myself before hurrying across the restaurant to Damon.

"Why the hell are you here?" I demanded bluntly.

Damon pretended to wince and took a long swallow of whiskey. "Ouch," he drawled with puppy-dog eyes. "Hurtful, Siddie. Can't a guy come wish his friend a happy birthday?"

"I am not your friend," I told him quickly.

Damon stared at me for a long minute. I felt bare and plain in the silk shirt and flannel I was wearing. Finally, he looked away and rolled his eyes.

"Yes you are," he replied. There was something in his voice that reminded me of a kindergarten teacher talking to an unruly student. I didn't like it.

"No, I'm not!" I snapped loudly. A few heads (including Corbin's. Did anything get past him?) swiveled around to look at us; I blushed and lowered my voice. "Not after the way you abused Caroline," I continued gruffly. "What you did to her is disgusting."

Damon glanced in Caroline's direction for a split second before snorting. "Whatever." He shrugged and stuffed something square and hard into my hands. "Think what you want, I don't care. I just came to give you this."

He took his leave then, and when I looked down at my hands, I saw that he had given me a book: _The Call of the Wild,_ by Jack London.

* * *

It took me about a week to finish, and that's how you know it was a good story because I'm an incredible slow and procrastination-prone reader.

I could see why Damon would love this book. It was about this husky named Buck who lived on a ranch in California. One day he was stolen from his home and sold as a sled dog in Yukon, Alaska, during the Klondike gold rush. To survive he was forced to return to his primal, wolf-like state.

It was a gripping tale, and when I turned the last page I got this hollow feeling in my chest that Elena had always told me about but I had never experienced before. Closing the book, I tucked it under my chin and found, to my surprise, that I was crying.

"What is it?" Anastasia, who was sprawled out across her bed, painting her nails, asked.

I shook my head and smiled softly. "It's nothing." I sniffled. "I've just never felt anything like this before."

I didn't have much time to mourn though, as the day I finished just so happened to be Halloween, my favorite holiday. There was always a festival at the school, and Anastasia and I got dressed at her house (her dad had left town again), her as Marilyn Monroe and me as a ballerina.

Yeah, I know. I felt more than just a little awkward in my pale pink tutu when we met up with the boys and my soccer teammates on the school's front lawn.

"Hey guys," Sutter greeted us, dressed as the Queen of Hearts, with Corbin (the Mad Hatter) hanging off of her arm. "You look adorable!"

"Thanks," I said with a grin, trying to ignore how Andrew had kissed Anastasia in greeting. "So do you."

It didn't take long for the couples to pair off and trot around to do God-knows-what (probably make out behind a vending machine somewhere), and the rest of us (me, Madison Crull, Colin, and Angelica Rivera) decided to go check out the haunted house Student Council set up every year.

The minute we stepped through the doors, some douche bag freshman in a zombie costume sprayed us with fake blood.

Everything pretty much went downhill from there.

Angelica retched and made a big show of flicking the fake blood off of her Tinkerbell costume. "I'm going to try and clean this off," she told us dejectedly, turning in the general direction of the girls' bathroom.

"She is so OCD," I heard Colin mumble as we continued through the crowded hallway.

Black lights and LEDs bounced off of fluorescent face paint and cheap costumes. Around every corner was a new display of something that was supposed to be horrific but actually wasn't. Yeah... I'm not a very easy person to scare. I regularly force Anastasia to binge-watch horror movies with me so I can point out all of their flaws, and I'm pretty sure she might actually hate me for it.

Madison, who really is a total fraidy-cat, was taken out by the girls in front of Mr. Tanner's old room who were eating spaghetti but acting like it was human intestines. She ran off with her hands clutched over her mouth, and Colin rushed after her after yelling "Be right back!" in my general direction.

And then there was one.

I froze for a moment, unsure what I was supposed to do now that I was on my own, and glanced around the hallway with green eyes wide and freckled nose wrinkled. You know how I said I'm not the best in social situations? Yeah, well, I'm not so great on my own, either. Just- I'm pretty much screwed in _any_ situation. That sounds about right.

Basically, I had no idea what to do with myself at that point, so I figured I might as well just get through the rest of the haunted house and meet with the others once I was on the other side.

Yeah, that was a big mistake.

The first few minutes passed without incident- just a lot of fake blood and attractions that didn't scare me in the slightest. It was after I passed the "Mad Science Lab" that I began to hear grunts and metallic bangs that weren't a part of the soundtrack being played through the PA system. With a slight frown, I edged my way closer to where the sounds were coming from, eventually slipping away from the crowd entirely and following the noises down a dark, empty hallway that I knew lead to the back parking lot where the buses were kept overnight.

The delicate ballet flats I was wearing as part of my costume made soft tapping noises as I pushed open the doors and padded outside. A dingy, fluorescent yellow light bathed the school buses and dimly illuminated the plastic dumpsters. The noises were definitely louder here- sucking sounds. I debated calling out to see if anyone was there but decided against it.

Instead, I walked in the direction of the sounds again- and froze up when I saw Vicki Donovan and my younger brother pressed up against a school bus and kissing the living hell out of each other, Jeremy groaning loudly and Vicki mewing vocally in approval.

"Dear God," I whispered. It was a lot like watching a train crash. You want to look away, but you can't.

Vicki must have heard me, because she ripped away from Jeremy with a noise like a toilet plunger and- _growled at me_.

Dark blood (_not fake- not. fake. blood.)_ dripped across her collarbone from her mouth, which was stretched open around a pair of extremely-sharp-looking fangs. I could see her obsidian black eyes even in the dark, and the veins on her face and neck had been stained with ink.

"Sidney!" Jeremy yelled breathlessly. (There was blood gushing out of his lip, I could see it now.) "_Run!_"

I tried to.

I whipped around and propelled myself at the door- something latched itself onto my shirt, sharp points digging into the skin of my back. I was violently flung backwards, and a scream tore itself out of my mouth. (Someone else shouted. Jeremy?) Pain erupted when I hit the window of a school bus. I bounced forward on impact and crashed into the pavement; the shattered window rained down over my head a second later.

There was pain everywhere and I whimpered from it: scratches from the glass across my cheeks and hairline, blood seeping from my palms where I had tried to catch myself on the blacktop, gouges on my back from Vicki's fingers.

I could see Vicki approaching me in the light from the school and tried to sit up. She was on me before I could blink, fangs embedded in the skin of my neck, pain springing up in every part of me, salt water welling up in my eyes. I screamed then. I screamed so loud that it _hurt_, and I could feel even more blood welling up in the back of my throat as I injured my vocal chords.

_And Vicki Donovan was biting me. Vicki Donovan was biting me and sucking my blood._

Out of the corner of my eye and around the tears, I saw a blur of fluorescent white dash up with something raised over its head. Vicki snarled into my veins and whipped herself around, ripping out ribbons of my flesh with her movement. She flung her arm out and- _Crack!_

A familiar voice shrieked in pain and my little sister went flying.

"Elena!" I cried in a rasping, garbled voice. "_Elena!_"

Vicki was looming over her, ready to make the kill, when suddenly Damon and Stefan had appeared and the end of a wooden stick had bloomed out of Vicki's back and- she- _she was dead._

What felt like an hour of silence passed before Jeremy started screaming.

"_Vicki!_" he yelled, crawling over to her already-decaying form. "_Vicki!_"

Stefan said something to Elena; she nodded and the two of them crouched down next to Jeremy, who was sobbing now. Damon just stood there. He watched them for a moment before sending a meaningful glance in my direction and striding over to me.

"Sidney-" he began, but I wouldn't let him finish.

"No," I interrupted, beginning to hyperventilate. I thought I might have been on the verge of a panic attack.

Damon frowned. "Sidney-" he tried again.

"No!" I screamed, tears mixing with the real blood and the fake blood and dripping off my chin and staining my arms and my hands and chest and legs and every part of me. "No, no-! Just don't," I sobbed, and it hurt to breathe. "Please, _please_ just don't."

"Siddie," Damon snarled, "you're having a panic attack-"

"Of course I'm having a fucking panic attack!" I screeched, forcing myself to my feet. "You just- with a stake, you just- and Vicki- oh my God-!"

"Stop fucking cutting me off!" Damon yelled, and I went quiet.

He stared at me for a long minute and I shivered, because _Vicki_ was a monster, and _Damon_ was a monster, and _Stefan_ was a monster-

"I'm taking you home," Damon finally decided, and grabbed my arm.

"No," I told him, yanking it back. "No you are not- What was she?" I asked desperately, because I _needed_ to know the truth. "What are you? You moved so _fast_..."

I trailed off. We stared at each other, me with tears in my eyes and Damon with darkness in his.

"It doesn't matter," he told me softly.

"Yes it does!" I insisted. "Tell me the truth, Damon."

"I think you've got a pretty good idea," he said in a hard whisper.

I faltered. "Tell me anyway," I finally said, struggling to get it out around the thickness in my throat.

I needed to hear it out loud.

Damon and I stared at each other for a long, long time. An unspoken agreement seemed to pass between us. With an air of finality, clear as day, he said four words that would change my life forever:

"Sidney, I'm a vampire."


	10. Royally Screwed, Thy Name is Sidney

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries  
Chapter 10: Royally Screwed, Thy Name is Sidney  
A/N: Fair warning, there is a **_**lot**_** of cursing this chapter. Proceed with caution. On a lighter note (not really), I recommend listening to Heart of Stone by Iko for the entirety of this chapter. And since I'm on spring break at the moment, you can expect maybe one or two more chapters this week. Also, to read a sneak peek of next time, leave a review or try to find the **_**A Very Potter Musical **_**reference in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Sidney, I'm a vampire."

I wish I could say that I had done what any sane person would do in this situation and scream- or laugh because- haha, bitch _no way in hell, _you belong in a _fucking mental institution_, but damn it… I knew that Damon was telling the truth. As fucked up as it was, (as fucked up as _he_ was) I knew, saw it in the burning, resigned intensity of his gunmetal-blue eyes, that he was telling the truth.

Vampires- _monsters_\- were real.

Half of me wanted to faint, the other half of me wanted to throw up.

Instead, with a giant shudder that racked my whole body, I choked back the vomit, the revulsion, the horror, the attack, the blood, and I straightened my spine, forced the tears away, and whispered, "I need to get my family home."

And then louder, because Elena was half watching me and half hugging Jeremy but obviously didn't hear: "I need to get my family home."

I saw Elena pause, frown, scrunch up her perfectly-plucked eyebrows, say, "Sidney, I don't think you can-"

"I can drive, Elena," I interrupted, stumbling to my feet, shoving away Damon's hand when he tried to help me up. I refused to look at him- _couldn't _look at him. "I _need_ to drive."

Elena looked like she was about to argue, but I wasn't about to let her, because I wasn't so much horrified and freaked-the-fuck-out anymore, as much as I was _mother fucking pissed and Elena was going to fucking get it when we got home for not telling me-_

"Sidney, really," Stefan said, strong and silent and for the first time I could really see how _old _he was- "you should be having a panic attack right now. Driving really isn't the best idea at the moment."

I glared at him- full on _glared_, which I didn't do very often but really seemed to make an impact because Stefan obviously got what I was trying to say- but didn't know how to- and nodded, glancing at me before nodding at me again.

"I am taking my siblings home," I said in a shaking, I-am-trying-so-_fucking_-hard-not-to-scream-right-now voice, "and when I get there, you are going to tell me _everything_."

I stared at Elena (innocence, pleading, and hot chocolate), Stefan (angst, chivalry, and smoke), and Damon (fire, brimstone, and vampire-douche-ery) each in turn before digging my car keys out of the waist band of my ballet skirt and limping over to Jeremy's side. "Come on," I whispered in his ear, and he nodded numbly, shooting one last glance at the decaying corpse (that was not _Vicki's_ body, because Vicki Donovan sure as _hell_ wasn't a monster) before following me back into the haunted house, Elena on our heels.

It was like something out of a nightmare. The black lights still danced and shone, people still laughed and screamed (and I wanted to do that with them because _oh my actual fuck, vampires exist_), there was still fake blood everywhere, and I wanted to throw up again.

Elena grabbed my blood-soaked shoulder once we were in the parking lot, pulled me aside, and said, "Sidney, are you sure you're okay to drive?"

I didn't look at her. "Yes," I replied, slowly, carefully, the words feeling strange in my mouth.

(Read: No, I am not. But I'm pretty much absolutely sure that if I don't concentrate on something normal at the moment I am going to need to go to the mental asylum and that would just be the perfect way to end this perfect night, wouldn't it?)

I didn't wait to see what Elena's reaction was, and instead hopped into the car, stared at the keys in my bloody, stinging hands for a long second before starting the engine, listening for the tell-tale snaps of two seat belts buckling, and pulling out of the parking lot and down the crowded Main Street as sanely (read: _sanely_), as I could.

"Sidney-" Elena tried again.

"Elena!" I inhaled shakily, pulled up to a stop sign, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started breathing again. "Elena," I said again, quietly, "please don't. We can- trust me, we _are_\- going to talk about this when we get home, but our little brother is currently sobbing his eyes out in the back seat"- (and the fact that Jeremy didn't kick the back of my seat at that was a testament to the fact that Vicki Donovan had really screwed him up)- "and I am _this close_ to having a mental break down, so please, _please_, for the love of _God_, just don't."

And she didn't, and I was grateful, I think, so I scowled and concentrated with laser-point focus on the darkened, crowded road as it stretched and winded up to our house.

"Oh God," I said, when I saw the car sitting in the driveway. "Jenna."

"It's cool," Elena said hastily, waving her hands in the general direction of my arm. "It's okay; I'll take care of her. Get Jeremy inside."

I stared at her for the split-second she was still in the car and nodded, but she didn't see me because she was already outside, jogging up the porch steps and inside the house, and there was still blood all over the nurse-outfit she was wearing from Halloween last year. And oh my God, I could still remember last year's Halloween and the way I had helped Mom hand out candy to the little kids and the horror-movie marathon I and my then-boyfriend had shared when he took that semester off from college. And I remembered the way Elena had hugged me and how I had told her that she looked really hot before she rolled her eyes, smacked my shoulder, grinned, and followed Matt out the door and- _Oh my God_, everything was so _normal_ back then.

"Come on," I said to Jeremy, easing him out of the car. "Let's get you inside."

He sniffled quietly into the sleeve of my light pink shirt, and I hoisted his arm over my shoulder, towing him around the side of the house to the window over the kitchen sink that everyone always forgot to lock for some reason. I urged him in before me and followed, and as I snuck him up the stairs I could hear Elena saying, "No, Jenna, we're fine. Sidney and Jeremy are just really tired. I think we're all just going to head up to bed."

I managed a snort (because, really- _huge_ mind-fuck), and escorted Jeremy through the door of his bedroom and onto his bed. We sat there in silence for a while (his bed smelled like pencils and teenage-boy), and there was a faint clomping noise as Elena came up the stairs.

"Go," she told me as Jeremy continued to cry softly. "Go. I'll... I'll tell you everything after I... after I talk to him."

I inhaled shakily and nodded, stumbling through the hallway and into the bathroom, kicking off my shoes (even they were blood-stained, _God_!) as I went, and hopping into the shower, clothes and all.

I shuddered again, shaking now, and turned the knob on the shower, letting out a muffled yelp when the water cascaded down, icy cold. Shivering, I stripped out of my clothes, water mixing with blood and circling down the drain, Pepto-Bismol pink, and when there was finally heat, I let my hair down from the carefully-twisted bun and flung the sopping mass of fabric at my feet out of the shower.

I smacked my palms against the wet tile and immediately bit my lip to hold back a wince at the pain. (Right: pavement, Vicki, glass, blood.) "I'm fine," I hissed at myself. "I. Am. _Fine_."

_No you aren't._

"I'm fine."

_So why are you crying?_

Was I? I scowled and wiped at my eyes, stinging from the mascara and eyeliner running down my cheeks. I couldn't tell if the moisture there was tears or just shower water, but I told myself, "Shut up. No I'm not."

_Vicki was a monster, Sidney. She was a monster and now she's dead. How long had the two of you known each other for? Since birth, practically?_

"Shut up!" I snarled, smacking the tile again. More pain sprung up on impact, and it seemed to chase the voice away. "Shut up, Sidney. You're fine, you're fine, _you're fine_." I fought back more tears. "You have to be."

And I remembered Jeremy's eyes when he found me in the woods, and I remembered Elena's shaking hands when she held my hair back for me as I puked and puked and puked and cried because _Mommy and Daddy why did you leave me? _And I remembered Jeremy's cries and screams as the ambulance rushed me to the emergency room and Jenna's voice saying, "Sidney? Our Sidney?" when Madison's mom, Doctor Crull, said, "She has alcohol poisoning", and I remembered Bonnie's and Caroline's and Anastasia's shock when they heard what happened, and I was _not_ going to let them see me weak like that _ever_ again.

With a jerk of a gasp, I slammed the shower off and stumbled out, robotically toweling my hair, drying my still-blood-stained body off, hissing when I brushed against a cut or a bruise, going through the motions of tying my hair back in a braid while it dried and using a makeup-remover-wipe to get rid of the black streaks under my eyes and on my cheeks. I slipped into the comfiest clothes I owned: Mickey Mouse sweatpants from a trip to Disney World years and years ago, Beatles t-shirt, neon pink socks with clouds on them, and a disgustingly hideous knit sweater that had belonged to Dad before I'd stolen it from him. Like things were normal- only they _weren't_. Things were so, _so_ wrong now, and I didn't know if they would ever be right again.

Elena was waiting for me when I walked into my bedroom.

I stared at her for a minute before (_not_ begging- I was calm, I was sane, I was rational- so totally, _fucking zen_) saying, "Tell me."

Elena faltered. "I don't know if I can," she admitted quietly, and I realized that if I was _not freaking out_ this much, then how bad had it been for her to face on her own? "There's so much... And I don't want you to get hurt, Sidney."

"I've already _been_ hurt, Elena," I told her coldly. Because _what the actual fuck?_ She didn't fucking _tell _me? She didn't think that I might want to know that she was dating a vampire- and oh my God, she was _dating_ a _vampire_. _A_ _motherfucking vampire! Oh my God!_

And then Elena told me- all of it: How Damon and Stefan had become vampires, how they'd burn in the sunlight without their magical rings, how they couldn't enter a house without permission from someone who lived there- which really sucked _ass_ because I had invited both of them in myself. Katherine and compelling and vervain and Damon hating Stefan and Damon _threatening_ Elena (and I was going to shove my foot _so _far up his sparkly, vampire ass) and the truth about what had happened to Caroline (once again, my foot, his ass) and about how Damon had turned Vicki into a vampire because he had been _bored_.

Case in point: Damon and Stefan were vampires (and apparently currently sitting on our front porch for _whatever fucking reason_), Damon was less of a douche and more of a psychotic vampire dick-head, and Elena had known but hadn't told me.

What the _hell _even _is_ my life?

* * *

_October 31st, Halloween, 2012  
Dear Diary,  
So, um, apparently vampires are a thing now.  
Please don't ask me to tell you how I feel about that, because I really don't __fucking __know, and I really don't want to think about it, but I don't think I have a choice anymore. Tonight... Damon asked if I wanted him to wipe my memories the same way we agreed that he should do to Jeremy (which I'm grateful for, by the way)... and I said no. I said no because I want to be able to be there for Elena and to protect my family the way I'm __supposed to__, but...  
Can I really do this? Can I really pretend like everything is normal now that I know what the world is really like? Now that I know that monsters actually exist?  
What do I do?  
I wish Mom and Dad were here- I wish they were here so fucking much that it actually __hurts__, and I can barely stand it I miss them so much, because I need them to tell me what to do.  
I can't take care of Elena. I thought that I could, but that was before __vampires__ existed and before she started dating one of them (are they even dating anymore?), and as much as I feel like a bitch for it, I'm so mad at her for not telling me!  
I mean, didn't she think that I might want to know? She needs to understand that I'm the one who's supposed to be protecting her, not the other way around! I mean, technically, I can be considered her and Jeremy's legal guardian if anything happens to Jenna now that I'm eighteen. I mean, seriously? She should have told me!  
But things have changed. The world is so much darker and more twisted than I could have ever imagined, and it __scares__ me. I'll admit it. It terrifies me out of my mind, and a part of me wishes that I had just let Damon erase my memories so I could go on without ever knowing the truth.  
But I can't.  
Elena has gotten herself mixed up in all of this, and I know, if what I've seen is the truth, her being in love with Stefan means that there's no turning back for her. Which means that there's no turning back for me, either.  
This is the start of something new. Something unimaginable and unordinary and completely insane. And no matter what comes my way, I will be ready for it. I can promise you that, at least.  
Sincerely,  
Sidney_

* * *

To say that I felt awful once I woke up would be a complete and total understatement: I felt like hell. It was so bad, in fact, that I skipped school Friday, and actually didn't get out of bed until Sunday afternoon, but my entire perception of reality had just been torn apart at the seams, so you could hardly blame me. In fact, I probably wouldn't have gotten up for another week if it weren't for Sutter and Anastasia.

"You need to get up," Anastasia told me softly on Sunday evening, perching on the edge of my bed and frowning at me. She had been understandably worried when I dropped off the face of the planet Thursday night, but I couldn't really tell her the reason without, you know, pretty much screwing her over for the rest of her life.

"There's a party at the Grille," Sutter informed me, already flicking through the clothes in my closet. "Caroline Forbes is throwing it and we're going." She turned and frowned at me. "And you aren't allowed to say no. We're really worried about you, Sid."

"I don't care," I said stubbornly, blandly, even if something in my frozen heart had come back to life at the realization that I had an iron-clad safety net of people who genuinely cared about me. "I am not getting out of this bed, and I am _not_ putting pants on."

Sutter smirked at me and sat down on the bed next to Anastasia. "I beg to differ."

I put pants on.

The moral of the story is, _never_ challenge Sutter McCreevey. It doesn't matter what the issue is, _she will win every time._ Needless to say, she would make a damn good lawyer.

"Who all's going to be here?" I glumly asked, not happy that I had been ripped away from my admittedly-beginning-to-stink fortress of solitude.

"Andrew, Colin, Madison, and Corbin," Anastasia told me, gorgeous in a crocheted top the same beaten gold color as her hair.

"Unfortunately," Sutter said as her lip curled up.

Anastasia leaned over to me as we hopped out of my car and whispered in my ear, "She and Corbin broke up on Friday."

I blinked cluelessly. "Oh my God, what? Why?" I said, passing through the restaurant doors, Sutter sauntering ahead in her hot pink heels, pretending like she couldn't hear us.

Anastasia shrugged and tucked a curl behind her ear. "I don't know," she said honestly.

"It's because he was just looking for a good fuck. Can we change the subject?" Sutter snapped back at us, and we didn't bring it up again, trying to ignore the way she glared at Corbin when we met up with him and the others at a large booth just off of the dance floor.

To be honest, I was pretty pissed- well, as pissed as I could be at the moment. (Read: I was still in an almost-comatose state of shock from, you know, _monsters_ existing and everything, so it was pretty damn impressive that I managed to summon up a scowl that would land Corbin in the morgue if looks could kill.) I had known since freshman year that Corbin Baker was nothing more than a glorified (and admittedly pretty nice) fuck-boy, but a part of me had still been thrown into surprised rage that he had turned Sutter into a bang-and-drop, especially considering the heated looks and flirtatious banter they had shared for the past three years. My glares turned especially vicious when I noticed him checking out some poor girl from across the restaurant.

I bit my lip angrily and swatted his shoulder. "At least try to act like you're sorry for breaking Sutter's heart," I hissed at him.

He frowned at me, thin eyebrows creasing over dark brown puppy-dog eyes. Corbin sucked on the inside of his cheek and cocked his head toward the packed dance floor. "She certainly doesn't _look_ heart-broken to me," he pointed out drily.

And he had a point. Sutter seemed to have gone out of her way that night to make Corbin realize what an incredible girl he was missing out on, dressing in her tightest pair of jeans, sheer black tank top that showed off her tanned abs, and the pink stilettos that she always wore when she needed a confidence boost, and even dragging a bashful Colin out onto the dance floor and grinding on him like there was no tomorrow.

"Yeah," I grumbled, searching for a reason to continue my case. "Well, you don't know her as well as I do."

Corbin grinned sadly and lifted one of his shoulders in a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it kind of way. "Yeah, well..." He trailed off and waved at the girl he had been making eyes at. "Hey!" he called.

The girl paused and stared at us, and I took the time to give her a quick run-over. She was pretty enough, with legs for miles, highlighted by dark-wash skinny jeans, and dark curls. When she approached our table (Anastasia and Andrew had slipped away to make out somewhere, and Madison had been pulled onto the dance floor by Josh McCusker, who'd had a crush on her for forever) I could see a bright, blindingly white smile and kind brown eyes.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully, if a little cautiously. "Can I help you?"

Corbin smiled and folded his hands under his chin. "I haven't seen you around before," he said, motioning for her to take the seat across from us. "I'm Corbin Baker, student council president, and this is my friend, Sidney Gilbert."

He emphasized the word 'friend', probably to make it loud and clear to this girl that he was single. I scowled and took an angry sip of my iced coffee. "Hi," I said moodily, and the girl frowned just the tiniest bit.

"Um, I'm Keeley Saltzman," she said with another cheerful smile. "My dad's the new History teacher. I just stopped by to pick up a job application."

And that was when I saw him, the undisputed king of vampire dick-faces.

Damon Salvatore was across the Grille from us, yucking it up with some curvacious blonde chick and looking way to cheerful for the guy who had single-handedly torn my life apart, probably forever.

"Corbin," I snapped suddenly, interrupting his making-the-moves on Keeley.

"What?" he asked me irritably. Keeley shifted uncomfortably, told us good bye, and escaped while she could. Good for her.

"Why did Caroline throw this party again?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the vampire-asshole in the leather jacket.

"I don't know," Corbin growled. "I don't care. Parties are parties- also, you made Keeley leave before I could-"

"It was never going to happen, Corbin." I rolled my eyes at him and scowled. "She obviously wasn't into you. Think with your head instead of your dick for once- it'll get you further than you think!"

And with that, I stood up and marched across the restaurant, leaving him staring after me with a hard look in his brown eyes and a troubled scowl on his much-abused lips.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded the minute I sat down next to Damon, scowling at him with a level of intensity that I had never used before but really should have scared the undead piss out of him- it didn't. He just smirked at me, raised one of those un-Godly well formed eyebrows, and took a long sip from his drink.

Before he could open his mouth to speak, the blonde woman sitting next to him said, "Who's this?" and then, as an after thought: "She looks like she really hates you. I like her."

I frowned at the blonde girl. "I'm Sidney Gilbert," I told her cautiously.

"Lexi." She took a shot of tequila, and I guessed that I wasn't going to be getting a last name, but once she had swallowed she added, "Stefan's best friend", without looking at me.

My eyes widened. "Oh my God, you're a vampire."

Lexi chuckled and turned to me with an angelic grin. (Read: So angelic it was hard to believe that she was a blood-sucking, murderous demon.) "You catch on quick."

"It's kind of hard not to," I told her, letting some of my I-am-this-close-to-hunting-down-all-supernaturual-entities-and-shoving-my-foot-up-their-asses seep into my voice, "considering _this_ bastard" -I glared, Damon smirked- "turned a girl I've known since childhood into a vampire who attacked me Thursday night."

Damon shrugged, like he _didn't_ care that he had simultaneously ruined multiple lives with one small action (which, I reminded myself, he probably didn't. Vampire-douchey-ness and all). "Guilty as charged."

"God, I hate you," I muttered.

"No you don't," Damon scoffed, taking a swallow of his drink and rolling his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I said again once he had set his drink down, more aggressively this time.

"Enjoying a good party?" he tried innocently.

"Shut up," I snarked. "You aren't either. I'm not a dumb ass, Damon. You can't just expect me to believe that _Caroline Forbes_\- the _queen_ of planning things to death- would throw a massive rager for no good reason. And you _just so happen_ to show up after compelling her into an abusive relationship with you for two weeks? Cut the shit. Why did you do this?"

"It's not an abusive relationship if she was asking for it-"

"She wasn't asking for it!" I practically screamed, although it wasn't as loud as it normally would have been, considering the pounding music. "She was being brain-washed by you, dip shit! And- and Vicki and Mr. Tanner and all those missing-persons reports on the news? That was you, too! You're a _monster_, Damon. And you think that killing people will make them like you? But it _doesn't._ It just makes them _dead_!"

By this point even I had no idea what the hell I was raving about (which wasn't that surprising because Elena had gotten all of the talent with words in our family and I had gotten nothing) but it didn't really matter so much because it felt right, and judging by the small glimmer of a reaction in Damon's eyes, it was right. And I wanted to punch him in the face because _I didn't know what to do_\- and monsters existed, and my world had been destroyed over the course of just one night, and for the first time since the day my parents had died, I was completely and utterly helpless.

And I hated it.

I stood up abruptly. I'd had enough.

"I'm going home," I said in a much softer voice, so soft, in fact, that I was pretty sure they wouldn't have been able to hear it if they weren't, you know, vampires, and I stormed out of the Grille in a flurry, not even bothering to stop and say good bye to my friends on my way out.

I didn't write in my diary that night, either.

* * *

The next week was one of the toughest that I had ever faced, second only to my first week without Mom and Dad.

Monday certainly started off on a shitty note, with Elena informing me that Damon had the Council members (because apparently there was now a council that hunted down vampires in Mystic Falls- _my life now, seriously!_) kill of Lexi, essentially letting her take the blame for his murders and cementing himself as town hero and resident vampire-slayer.

Asshole.

Anastasia was, predictably, mad at me for rushing out of the party and leaving her stranded after I had promised to take her home, although she had gotten a ride from Andrew and I agreed to spend the night at her house on Friday, so she forgave me by lunch time.

On Tuesday there was a Literature test that I hadn't studied for and subsequently bombed, as well as an extremely apathetic rejection letter from Winston-Salem University in my mailbox, and on Wednesday I was so distracted during practice that Angelica rammed into me during a scrimmage and I twisted my ankle, which meant I would be in an accursed brace for about two weeks.

On Thursday Corbin apologized for being such a douche, which was nice, but he also commented on Kelly Leach's ass in front of Sutter, who had sort of forgiven him but still looked a little hurt, so it was less nice, and to top it all off, I fell in a mud puddle first thing Friday morning and spent the rest of the day looking like I had taken a shit in my favorite pair of jeans.

By the time Anastasia and I were settling in for the night at her house, I was ready to punch someone in the face.

"Please, _please_, for the love of all things holy, tell me you have an ice pack," I begged as she sifted through her fridge, finally emerging with a freezer pack that she immediately set on my throbbing ankle.

"That looks really bad," Anastasia commented, settling onto the couch next to me and tying her glossy blond hair into a ponytail. "Did you forget to take the anti-inflammatory the doctor gave you?"

"I left it at home," I told her with gritted teeth, shivering slightly as the ice relieved some of the pain in my ankle. As great as playing soccer was, I really hated it sometimes.

"I'm sorry," Anastasia said with a frown. She stared at my ankle for a few more minutes, that familiar look on her face that meant she was trying to decide something, before she finally leaned back into the couch cushions and pressed play on the movie we were planning to watch: _Labyrinth_.

And, of course, right when David Bowie comes on for the first time, my phone rang.

"Elena," I hissed when I saw who was calling and answered, "you'd better have a damn good reason for interrupting eighties sexiness."

And, of course, she did.

"It's Bonnie. She's being possessed."


	11. Unknown

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 11: Unknown**  
**A/N: I strongly suggest listening to Safe and Sound from the Hunger Games soundtrack. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review! It doesn't even have to be a positive one- just tell me what you like and dislike about the story and my writing style so that I can improve it and make it more enjoyable for all of us. **

* * *

I probably shouldn't have been very surprised to discover that ghosts existed, too. I mean, it made sense, didn't it? If vampires existed, then all of those other impossible, fantastical things- ghosts, fairies, demons, werewolves, mermaids, _monsters_... Well, then there was a pretty good chance that they were real, too.

Still, my mind was whirling as I sped through the darkened streets of Mystic Falls. How could Bonnie have been possessed? Did something happen that Elena hadn't told me about? Did this have something to do with the vampires?

Of course it did- _everything_ had to do with the vampires these days.

Whatever the reason, I was freaked out enough to leave my car unlocked and race through the front door when I got to the house.

"Elena!" I called when I burst into the entrance hall. She was pacing anxiously, back and forth through the room, and I put my hands on her shoulders. "What happened?"

"Bonnie's been possessed by the ghost of her ancestor!" Elena blubbered, taking deep, shuddering breaths as she raked her hands violently through her straight, shiny hair. "She's been having dreams about this- this Emily person who I guess was this witch during the antebellum era? But she's been using this talisman that Damon gave Caroline and Caroline gave to Bonnie to communicate. And we _tried_ to throw the necklace away but it kept- I don't know, it kept coming back! So Caroline thought it would be a good idea to have a seance-"

"A seance?" I repeated incredulously. "You're kidding me, right-? Oh my God, Elena!" She hung her head and scowled down at the ground as I talked. "I mean, how many horror movies have we seen together? We both know this never ends well!"

"Yeah, well-!" Elena threw her head up, glared at me, and then decided against getting into an argument that we both know would have done more harm than good. "Yeah, well, it's too late now," she repeated in a less angry, softer voice. "I called Stefan. He's on his way."

"So we just have to wait?"

We did, but not for very long. Not a minute later the doorbell rang. Elena yanked it open and there was Stefan, hands shoved in his pockets and an anxious look on his chiseled face.

"Damon heard our conversation," he explained as way of greeting. "I think he might be trying to kill her."

My mouth fell open, and for a split second, I was in shock.

And then the panic set in.

"Oh my God," I whispered. I dug my keys out of my jacket pocket and ran out the door as fast as I could in my ankle brace, Elena and Stefan racing behind me to the Toyota. "Where are they?" I demanded as we hopped into the car and I jammed the keys into the ignition.

"Fell's Church," Elena said from her seat beside me. "I think. Hurry."

She didn't need to tell me twice. I was pushing one hundred as we tore through the streets and off-road paths that lead to the ruin site, Stefan explaining about his attempt to get information out of Damon, and how Damon planned to bring back their lost love, Katherine, who had apparently been living in a tomb beneath the church all this time, by using the crystal. Whether or not this involved killing Bonnie, Stefan wasn't sure.

I tried to get the Toyota to one-fifty.

We screeched to a stop next to the charred remains of the ruin, and Elena and I shrieked when we saw flames licking up the sides of the stone wall. Stefan was out of the car in an instant; Elena and I weren't quite as quick to react, and my brace kept me from running into the clearing at the same time my sister did, but when I got there, I screamed again.

It was a pentagon. A pentagon made out of fire.

And Bonnie was standing in the middle of it.

"What does she mean, _'them'?" _Stefan was screaming over the roar of Bonnie's flames. "What part of the story did you leave out, Damon?"

And there he was. Damon was suspended from a tree, one of the branches impaled through his shoulder, and I wanted to scream again- this time out of revulsion. "What does it matter?" he groaned, trying to get himself down.

Stefan sent a burning glare in Bonnie's direction. "Emily!" he shouted. "Tell me what you did!"

Bonnie just stared at him, and it was a look of sharp, steely intensity that I prayed I would never see from her again.

"To save her, I had to save them."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but Stefan sure did, and the look on his face sent a pang of terror into my heart.

"You saved everyone in the church?" he demanded.

And that's when it hit me. The other vampires- the ones who had been in Mystic Falls with Katherine and Stefan and Damon and my and Elena's ancestors- if Katherine was alive, then so were they.

And saving her meant unleashing them on the city.

_My _city.

"Oh my God," I whispered, suddenly feeling like I was going to throw up.

If that tomb was opened, chances were, everyone I loved was going to die.

Damon was raging on about how he didn't care about the townspeople of Mystic Falls, how we were far from innocent, how everything that had happened so long ago was our fault, how, so long as he had Katherine again, nothing mattered- but I wasn't listening.

I was staring at Bonnie- _Emily_, because it wasn't my little sister's best friend in there, anymore- as she tugged the talisman off its chain and dropped it into the fire.

There was a simple "snap, pop", and a small jump of sparks, and then it was gone.

The fire died. Bonnie collapsed to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs. Elena cried out her name.

And Damon pulled away from Stefan and lunged.

I didn't have time to think, I didn't have time to feel. All I knew was that Bonnie was screaming and Damon was biting her and he had been planning on _killing all of us_, and yeah, I was kind of crippled at the moment, but I didn't care. I didn't know what I expected Damon to do, and I didn't know if I would even faze him. I simply screamed, "STOP!" so loud that it hurt, and threw myself at him.

And to my amazement, he hissed in pain when my hand clenched around the bare flesh of his wrist. My ankle buckled, his flesh began to sizzle, and the two of us went down.

"Sidney!" I heard Elena shriek.

My ankle was throbbing. My breath was coming out in harsh, painful pants. Damon's flesh still burned where the iron of my ring met it, and I pulled away, rolling off of him.

"Sidney!" Elena yelled again.

"I'm okay," I whispered, even though that was the exact opposite of true.

Because what the _actual fuck_ had just happened? How had I burned Damon's skin just by touching him?

With growing hysteria, I curled around my right hand and pinched the metal of Dad's ring, the one I hadn't taken off since Jenna had given it to me on my birthday.

It had been the ring, I realized, as Elena fluttered around me and Stefan gave Bonnie blood and Damon slowly got to his feet and stumbled over to a nearby log. _The ring had burned Damon._ I didn't know how, and I didn't know why, but it had done it.

And I was terrified out of my fucking mind.

"I'm okay," I murmured, pushing back my fear and sitting up. "Really, I'm fine, I'm cool, I'm... Just... in shock." I shook my head and bit my lip. "How- how's Bonnie?" I called to Stefan.

He glanced up from her limp, bloody form and looked at me for a long minute. "She'll live," he finally told me.

I bit my lip even harder. _Stefan had given her blood_. "An- and will she...?"

He shook his head. "No," he said. "Not unless she dies with it in her system." He glanced at my ring, opened his mouth, closed it, and his question went unasked and unanswered.

Because I didn't know any more than he did.

We took Bonnie to my car, and I hung back while Elena coached her out of her hysteria and promised to tell her the truth once we were home. Stefan spent a long while talking to Damon.

I never thought I would see him this broken. But then again, I never thought that he would turn out to be a monster, either.

But I suppose that even monsters can feel.

After what felt like hours, Stefan stood from his seat next to Damon on the log and approached the Toyota, his intentions clear in his eyes. I got up from where I was leaning against the hood of the car, my ankle still throbbing intensely, and met him halfway across the black, smoky clearing.

Stefan wouldn't meet my eyes. "We're leaving," he told me. "You won't have to worry about us anymore. Your family will be safe."

For some reason, I felt tears spring to my eyes when he said that. I didn't know why; I didn't think I would miss him, least of all miss the constant danger that he had brought with him. I wouldn't miss the not-knowing if I would live to see another day, or the not-knowing if Damon would decide he'd had enough of me and kill me and my family in our sleep.

So I bit my lip and turned away, staring at two of the people I cared about most, sitting in the backseat of my car, one sobbing hysterically into the other's shoulder while she tried to fight off tears of her own.

"Elena's not going to be happy," I said softly, instead of what I was really feeling. (Read: I'm not going to be happy, either.)

Because, really, how could he expect our lives to go back to normal after this? After we had discovered that the things we had only dreamed about were real? That Bonnie was a witch and Elena was stronger than any of us had thought and I had somehow burned Damon's flesh just by touching him? Now that Vicki was dead and Matt would never be the same?

And, to be honest, Stefan had been starting to grow on me.

But now he was leaving and I would never see him- or Damon- ever again.

And, like I had felt the first time that Damon had disappeared, my stomach bottomed out and there was nothing but hollowness where there used to be a person. But it was worse this time. Because, this time, I knew the truth.

Stefan stared at me for a long minute. "She'll survive," he decided, and then said, in a much, much quieter voice, "You both will."

And, somehow, I knew that he was right.

But that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Okay," I said, nodding.

Stefan cocked his head toward the Toyota, and, more importantly, Elena. I nodded my consent, he glanced at Damon, and we went our separate ways, maybe forever.

I didn't say anything when I sat down next to Damon, and he didn't say anything to me, either. I don't even know if he realized that I was there. I don't even think that _I _had completely realized I was there. I couldn't think of a single thing left for me to say to him, but something just felt right in that moment.

It just felt right for the two of us to be sitting there, staring up at the tree tops and the patches of crystal clear night sky you could see between them. It felt right for the both of us to sit there; knowing inherently that the other one wasn't as strong as they had made themselves out to be. It felt right to sit there and _not know_...

It just felt right.

But nothing based on pure feeling can last, and I knew that I had to say _something_, because it was going on one in the morning and I could faintly hear Elena through the quiet, screaming at Stefan, begging him not to go, and I knew that she would need to get home soon. That we all would. That... whatever this was, be it a dream or a nightmare, it needed to end.

So I opened my mouth and let the words spill out.

"You know," I whispered, "having a tragic back story doesn't make you any less of a dick."

Damon didn't even look at me. He just kept staring up at the sky and the vast unknown. I tipped my chin down and gazed at my hands, twisting the ring around my right middle finger, light brown waves falling down around my face and hiding the pain in my eyes from him, had he chosen to turn toward me.

There was a hoarse whisper. "Siddie..."

I glanced up at him. He was finally looking at me, and there was gut-wrenching heart-break in those blue eyes of his.

Amazingly, I wasn't crying.

I bit my lip and glanced down at my hands again.

"Good luck," I murmured.

I stood and began the slow trudge back to the Toyota. There was a slight breath from Damon, and he called, "Wait."

I stopped, but didn't turn. "Don't say you're going to miss me," I told him softly. "Don't lie. For once, please. Don't lie to me."

I couldn't see, but I was pretty sure that he nodded. I started walking again. Halfway across the clearing, I looked back. He was standing now, just staring at me.

"Good luck," I told him again, and I meant it this time.

For a moment, Damon hesitated. His eyes slipped down to the ring, and I knew what he was really trying to say when he called back, "Good luck to you, too."

I nodded, he stared, and that was it.

I climbed into the Toyota, turned the keys in the ignition, and drove off; leaving the Salvatores behind for, what I thought was, forever.

If only I had known.

* * *

_November 4th, 2012_  
_Dear Diary,_

_ They're gone. It's really over._  
_ It's really, really over._

_Sincerely, _  
_Sidney_

* * *

It was close to three in the morning by the time Elena and Bonnie finally went to sleep. I, on the other hand, seemed to have developed a one-night case of insomnia. The moment I heard Elena's soft, distinctive snores, I slipped out from between her and Bonnie and slunk over to the far wall, switching off the over head light and leaning against the door frame, watching the tangle of limbs on my bed with a pensive look on my face and that protective, mothering instinct welling up inside of me.

I felt just a little bit like an idiot.

Stefan had made it exceptionally clear that he and Damon were not going to be coming back- ever. (Or, at least, not while anyone I knew was still alive.) But there was something in me... Something that made me wonder if it really _was_ over. If we were really as safe as the Salvatore brothers liked to think we were.

For some reason, I wasn't so sure.

With a troubled exhale through my freckled nose I pulled away from the door and limped downstairs, my ankle still throbbing from the fall I had taken earlier that night. I switched on the light once I reached the kitchen and went for the tin of vervain tea that Stefan had given me.

It was empty. For some reason, that felt like a premonition.

Tea-less and more than a little shaky, I opened the pantry and grabbed a box of Entenman's doughnuts. My phone was sitting on the kitchen island, and I saw that I had a total of thirteen messages from Anastasia, all of them saying the same thing: **Where are you? What's going on? Are you ok?**

I didn't bother to respond- mostly because I didn't know how to. I was home, yes, and the nightmare was over, yes, but I had no idea if I was "okay".

I didn't think so.

I took a deep breath, closed the box of Entenman's (there was no way I could even think of eating right now), got on my knees, and started to do something I had barely even thought about since I was twelve: I started to pray.

"Um, hi, God," I said carefully. "It's me, Sidney... Which you probably already knew- if you even _exist_, but... Yeah, hi. So, I know that I haven't talked to you in like, six years, and I know that I probably don't have any right to be talking to you _now_, but..." I bit my lip. "I kind of need your help," I confessed. "I- I know that Stefan and Damon are leaving, so everything should be fine, but..." I took a deep breath and continued, "But I feel... I just... Something feels _wrong_. Something bad is going to happen, and I don't have any proof that it will but I feel it and when it comes, I'm not going to have any way to protect the people I care about. I'm going to be completely helpless- _again_. And I don't know if I can handle that."

I felt so, so, _unbelievably _stupid. Kneeling here on the cold, hard kitchen floor, the tile making imprints on my bare knees, staring up at the ceiling like I expected God to just appear above me and tell me what to do at three in the morning.

And that's when there was a soft knock on the front door.

I was instantly on my guard, and I really, really doubt that I need to tell you why. I may have only been in on the whole vampire thing for two weeks now, but I had learned that anything even the least bit out-of-the-ordinary in the middle of the night was usually vampire-related.

Oh my God. I can't believe I just said that.

I shook my head, bit my lip, and grabbed the biggest knife we had in our kitchen before wrenching the front door open...

...and finding Mr. West standing behind it.

* * *

"You seem shocked," Mr. West murmured at me from over the rim of the mug of coffee I had just fixed him.

I sent him a raised eyebrow and perched on the counter, staring at him where he sat at the island. "Can you blame me?" I asked, sending a glance at the clock on the microwave. "It's almost four in the morning. I didn't think you even knew where I lived."

Mr. West shrugged. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

I didn't know how to reply to that. Luckily, I didn't need to.

"Your dad and I grew up together," Mr. West started, staring down at his coffee cup and trying to seem casual, even though I could hear the catch in his throat. "Jason and I were best friends through high school. Sure, we grew apart when I went off to college and then globe trotting- but we still talked to each other. I still remember the day he told me he was marrying Miranda- and the day he told me you were coming." Mr. West took a moment to smile warmly at me. "I came back to Mystic Falls when I was forty- but you already knew that. I'm here to tell you what you don't know.

"I know about vampires." He held up a hand to stop my gasp of surprise. "Your father told me when we were fifteen. His dad had just told him."

"Wait," I said, shaking my head in disbelief, "_what_? My- my _dad_\- the most down-to-earth man I know- knew about vampires?"

Mr. West nodded. "He did," he said. "You see, Sidney... I hate having to do this. It really should have been your father, but he isn't here anymore so I have a duty to do this."

"Do _what_?" I asked, exasperated. Because, really, it was going on four in the morning and I was beginning to feel just how exhausted I really was.

Mr. West took a deep breath, and set his mug to the side. He leaned forward on his elbows and said, with a gravely rumble in the back of his throat, "Sidney, the Gilberts are a family of monster hunters."


	12. A Better Buffy

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 12: A Better Buffy**

Once upon a time, all I wanted to be when I grew up was a Disney princess.

My favorite was always Princess Aurora from _Sleeping Beauty_. I was obsessed, always waltzing around the house singing _Once Upon a Dream_ and making my parents buy me pink everything. I would stare into the mirror for hours on end, wishing I had pretty blond curls like Aurora- and that, funnily enough, is actually how I met Anastasia. On the first day of first grade, the year she and her parents moved to Mystic Falls, I walked up to her on the playground and told her that she had hair like Sleeping Beauty's. We had been inseparable ever since.

Her favorite princess was Ariel, because Ariel loved music and so did she, and mine was still Aroura, although we both agreed that Belle was nice too, and we spent every afternoon up until sixth grade running through the woods and dancing with invisible princes and playing dress up and dreaming and wishing and pining for the day when we would finally find our happily ever afters.

But then, when we were twelve years old, things changed.

Anastasia's mother ran off with the Mystic Grille bartender, and she and her father became the talk of the town, and Mr. Graham spent less and less time at home, and Anastasia stopped dreaming of finding her Prince Charming and instead retreated deeper in on herself until I was the only person she ever really opened up to.

And sure, maybe the prince and princess weren't always right for each other in the long run, and maybe not everyone got their happy ending, but I never gave up hope- not like Anastasia did. And, my sophmore year, tall, tan, and undeniably handsome Mason Lockwood waltzed back into town and fufilled every day dream that I had ever had of a charming prince, and I thought that my wish had finally been granted.

That is, at least, until I gave him my virginity and he, in return, gave me a good bye and a bright white smile as he left me behind to go back to college.

Maybe I should have known better. Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so easily. Maybe I shouldn't have fallen for the warm brown eyes and the dimples and the tales from the semester he had spent studying abroad in Brazil.

But, as silly as it seems, my first real boyfriend broke my heart, and that was all it took to rip apart my rose-tinted dreams of long blond curls and fairy godmothers and pink ballgowns and true love's kiss.

I hadn't hardened, necessarily, but I did toughen up a little bit. I didn't put up with Elena's excuses and masks anymore and put less effort into my appearance. I joined the soccer team and found that I could be very aggressive when I wanted to be, making me a perfect candidate for center defensive player and team captain. I expanded my circle of friends to include people like Corbin Baker and Sutter McCreevey and even my little sister's friends, Caroline and Bonnie and Tyler Lockwood. My crush on Andrew grew less all-consuming and more embarrassing, and I stopped envying Anastasia's hair so much and instead envied her ability to play flawless concertos on the piano and, once in a while, her grandma's violin.

And the car crash brought on even more change, and even more responsibility, and a whole new onslaught of intense feelings of protectiveness and fierce love for my siblings and aunt and friends. And my discovery that the things that go bump in the night were more fact than fiction only served to toughen me even more, now that I was faced with fangs and blood and murder.

But this? This one, single sentence from my favorite teacher was the last crack in the glass that shattered those faint dreams of so long ago and made me, in a sense, finally grow up.

"Sidney, the Gilberts are a family of vampire slayers," Mr. West told me, his face and voice as grave and dark as the feeling in my chest at his words. "They have been for hundreds of years. The first born of every generation is trained, and-"

"And it's my turn," I whispered hoarsely, gripping the kitchen counter and trying my best not to fall flat on my face or throw up all over the floor.

Mr. West, for the first time since he had come to the house, seemed to realize just how exhausted I truly was, and stood from where he had been perched awkwardly on one of the bar stools. "Maybe I should be getting home," he told me. "It's late- well" -he glanced at the clock on the oven- "_early_, and from the bags under your eyes, I can tell you haven't been to sleep yet-"

"No!" I interrupted with a stubborn shake of my head. "No. I'm sorry- well, not really- but I _am_ sorry if I'm being disrespectful or impertinent, or..." I bit my lip and floundered for a way to get around my awkwardness and say what needed to be said. "You can't just drop a bombshell on me like that and then expect me to go to bed so you can explain it to me in the morning," I finally decided.

Mr. West grumbled something and took a seat again, rubbing a large hand over his bald, shiny head. Finally, he glanced back up at me, straightened his glasses, and said, "Fine. Sit down, though; I'm scared you'll collapse if you just stand there, and this might take a while."

I sat at the bar stool next to him and stared at him expectantly. He sighed, glared at me a little bit, and then his gaze dropped down to my ring.

"It starts with that," he began, not taking his eyes off of it, even as I frowned and slipped it off, pinching it between my thumb and index finger and holding it up to the light.

"_This_?" I repeated incredulously, because- even though the ring had actually _burned_ Damon just by coming into contact with his bare skin- it was just so... so _small_, and yet, I had this heavy feeling in my stomach that it was about to become more important than I had ever thought it would be.

"That," Mr. West assured me, seeming to ease up a little bit as he took a sip of his coffee, half of which was creamer, per his request. "According to your father, a very, _very_ distant ancestor of yours named Johnathan Gilbert managed to acquire that jewel- your father never mentioned how, and I'm not sure if he actually knew." Mr. West took another gulp of his coffee. "When your ancestor learned about vampires, and what a threat they are to the human world, he took it upon himself to make sure that mankind was never defenseless against the creatures of the night, and had that ring made.

"The ruby is set in blessed iron, and the face of it is engraved with ancient spells that ward off demons and the things of the underworld. After it was forged, it was cooled in a bucket of vervain-water for nearly a year, and it needs to be soaked in vervain every six months to keep the spells working."

I bit my lip so hard it hurt and slipped the ring back onto the middle finger of my left hand. "So what?" I finally mumbled, grabbing my own mug of coffee and taking a long swallow from it. "I have a magic ring with the power to burn vampires... or something like that." I shook my head. "Anyway. What good does it do?"

Mr. West scowled at me. "A hell of a lot more than you'd expect," he told me crossly, which made my mouth fall open because I had never, _never_ heard him curse before. "That ring isn't all you have on your side, either. You've got a family legacy, for one thing, and a duty to the Gilbert line to accept your destiny and become a Slayer... Like your father."

We both got a little misty eyed at this, and simultaneously took big, burning mouthfuls of coffee. Mr. West cleared his throat and glanced at me, eyes unreadable through the light glinting off of his glasses.

"And another thing," he murmured. "You've got me. Your father taught me everything he knew, and in honor of his memory and our friendship, I'm going to do what he can't- Sidney, I'm going to train you."

* * *

And train me he did. Later that morning, after a long six hours of sleep filled with nightmares and restless tossing and turning, I met with Mr. West ("Carson," he instructed I call him) on the football field, and we got to work.

"You'll do two hours of agility training every morning," he told me as I jumped hurdles around the track, "followed by two hours of endurance after school and then two hours of weapons training and hand-to-hand combat in a special clearing in the woods. And no more skipping meals- if you're going to build muscle and get in better shape, you need to _ eat_; three square meals a day, plus two liters of water, and snacks."

My mind was reeling from everything he had just rattled off at me- or maybe that was just the blood pumping through my head from my turn around the track and constant collision with the wooden vaults Mr. West- _Carson_ had set for me to jump over. By the time we were finished with that particular excersize, my legs were covered in scrapes and gashes, and blood was slowly dripping down my shins, bright red...

_Blood welling up in my neck, Jeremy's screams, a spark of flame and Bonnie's face in the light of the fire-_

I shook my head and got to my feet, throwing the memories away, and we started our second excersize of the day, even though every muscle below the waist was begging for me to stop and go back to bed.

But I couldn't. For the rest of the day, Carson drilled me practically nonstop, only breaking for sips of water and trips to the bathroom, and later, for dinner- although we did pause briefly when one of the tennis balls he had been lobbing at me to test my reflexes nailed me in the eye and he wanted to check and see if I had a concussion.

I ran laps, hauled ass up and down the stadium steps, did pushups, jumping jacks, and burpees, and practiced kicks, punches, and jabs on the dummies that the football players used for tackling practice- and that was only what we did for the first half of the day. After a lunch of baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and salad at the Grille (Carson's treat. According to him it would be my turn to pay tomorrow), we moved on to an empty clearing in the dense woods and the actual fighting part of our training regimen began.

"Christ!" I shrieked, clutching a hand to the shoulder bone that had just, _very loudly_, popped out of its socket, thanks to a harsh karate chop from Carson. "Did you have to hit that hard?"

Carson grimaced and squatted down next to the pile of dead leaves I had landed in, feeling his way up and down my shoulder as I whimpered in pain. Finally, with little to no warning, he jammed the bone back into its socket, drawing out a scream from me.

"The vampires will hit a lot harder," he told me grimly, getting back to his feet. "Now come on," he continued, holding out a hand for me to take. "Let's try this again."

I stared up at him in disbelief. "Um, shouldn't we be going to the hospital?" I asked cluelessly. "A part of my body just came unhinged from another part of my body."

Carson sighed deeply and tapped the wooden stake he was holding against his jean-clad thigh. "Here's the situation," he said, a blank expression on his face, "you, Elena, and Jeremy are surrounded by monsters- you're outnumbered, four to one, and one of them snaps your leg all the way through and you fall down. That same monster grabs Jeremy and bites him." He glared steadily and held out a hand for me. "What are you going to do, Sidney?" he challenged. "Are you going to lie there, or are you going to _get back up_?"

I hesitated for a minute, and then, even though every part of me ached like hell, I got back up.

* * *

"Oh my God, Sid. What _happened _to you? You look like death!"

My face screwed up in pain, I accepted my younger sister's held out hand and tottered through the front door, groaning, "Thanks _so much_, Elena. I feel so much more confident now."

She winced apologetically, helping me up the stairs and into our shared bathroom before sitting me down on the toilet and beginning to fill up the tub, adding a liberal dose of Epsom salt from the carton on the counter. After two years of sore muscles and sprained ankles from soccer practices, she knew the drill.

"How did it go?" Elena asked, and then held up a hand before I could answer. "No, wait- no sarcastic comments. It went really badly, didn't it?"

I laughed bitterly, peeling off my sweat-soaked white tank top and kicking off my favorite pair of Nikes. "Actually... no. I liked it- it hurt, like, _a lot_"- my hand immediately strayed to the shoulder that had been popped out of place- "but... it was satisfying... if that makes sense."

Elena immediately told me that no, it didn't, and left a few minutes later to let me soak in the tub for a few hours before dinner. As I lowered myself into the steaming hot water, I bit my lip, my mind whirring as I recounted the day's events- the strange satisfaction I felt the first time I held a beautifully-carved wooden stake in my hands- the feeling that it _belonged _there, that my hand was made to fit around one perfectly- like I was born to hold it.

My phone rang then, drawing me out of my stupor, and I answered it to find Carson on the other line, informing me that training tomorrow was cancelled, on account of the career fair at school. I wasn't bothered much, though, (in all honesty, I was grateful for a day to rest my screaming muscles) and immediately called Anastasia to ask if she wanted to go Homecoming dress shopping tomorrow, seeing as how the dance was in just a little over a week. She agreed, and we made plans to skip school the next morning and head to the Charlottesville.

To be honest? I was _beyond_ shocked that Anastasia was willing to skip school with me. She was usual terrified of what her overprotective dad would do if she broke the rules even once, and besides that, she always complained about having to miss rehearsals in Orchestra, so, naturally, I asked her about it the minute she slipped into my car with an irate look on her usually-serene face.

"Whoa," I muttered as she clicked on her seat belt, "what's wrong?"

Anastasia grumbled and tugged irritably on a stray lock of blond hair that had fallen out of her loose bun. "It's my dad," she murmured as Mystic Falls whipped by through the windows, "_again_... We went to dinner with a client of his last night and it turns out he has to leave again."

"Well, that's not so bad," I tried to comfort her. "You're used to it, and besides, he'll be back soon."

"No, he won't be," Anastasia snapped. She sighed and deflated into the car seat. "He... He's going to be gone until Christmas." Her voice had grown thicker here, and I knew that she was about to start crying. "He won't even be back for Thanksgiving."

"Oh God, 'Stasia," I said apologetically, watching as tears leaked out and started dripping down her pale cheeks. "I'm so sorry. You can spend Thanksgiving with us this year, if you want."

She managed to choke out a watery laugh. "You mean like I did last year?" she joked sadly. "And the year before that, and the year before that, and the year before that?"

Here's the thing about Anastasia: she hates telling people about her problems. She says it's because they're small in comparison to other people's, but I know the truth; it's because of her father. He's had to go through so much (dragging her through it with him, consequentially), that her own troubles growing up kind of had to take a backseat to his. Not to mention the fact that he was rarely ever at home. This wasn't the first time he had missed out on a holiday or a birthday because of work.

I wasn't really sure what, exactly, he did, anyway. All I knew was that neither one of the Grahams liked to talk about it, and it required him to leave his daughter alone for most of her childhood, which had resulted in my neurotic, unassuming, wonderful best friend with abandonment issues who was currently drying her tears on the sleeve of her pink-and-grey sweater and flashing me a watery smile.

"Enough about that, though," Anastasia said, switching on the radio and faking a happy glimmer in her dark blue eyes. "Where were you yesterday? I know you said that you were training- but for the whole day?"

I winced, my legs throbbing at the reminder, and nodded as I eased onto the highway. "Yeah. Apparently Mr. West played professional soccer back in the day, and he said he could help me improve my game," I told her, the untruth feeling strange in my mouth. I had never been very good at lying, but, I supposed, my expression souring, I was going to have to get used to it now. (Read: Now that I was going to try and kill vampires and vampires were going to try and kill me.)

The rest of the day progressed without incident, and we had fun together, trying on dresses and laughing at the ones that were so obviously not right; like the strapless, backless, tight leather mini dress I forced Anastasia to try and the bubblegum-pink, chiffon-and-lace confection she stuffed me into.

Eventually, I managed to find a shimmery, champagne-colored dress that fit me like a glove, while Anastasia had selected one made of violet lace with a halter top. It was as we were cruising home, the radio blasting and the windows rolled down to let in the last of the year's warm breezes that my phone rang.

"Can you see who that is?" I asked.

I couldn't see, focusing on the road and all, but I was pretty sure that Anastasia had nodded because a second later she told me, "It's Damon Salvatore. Do you want me to deny the call?"

I was so shocked I swerved and nearly sent us off the road.

"What? No!" I exclaimed frantically. "No! Give me the phone!"

She handed it over with a confused look on her face, and I turned down the radio before answering the call.

"Damon?" I said tentatively. "Can I help you-?"

"We've got a crisis on our hands here, Siddie," he interrupted me, obviously distressed by the tone in his voice- the same one he had used after Vikki had attacked me...

I shook my head, storing those memories away to torment myself with when I was trying to go to sleep later that night, and replied, "What happened?"

Damon hesitated. "Where are you right now?" he finally asked, not answering my question at all, and I instantly replied, "Driving back from Charlottesville. Why?"

He was quiet again for a minute. "Come to the Boarding House as soon as you're back," was all he said before hanging up.

* * *

"Would you like to tell me what that incredibly cryptic phone call was all about?" I asked the minute Damon swung open the door to the huge, wooden mansion on the edge of the woods.

"What, no 'hello, Damon'?" he quipped as he stepped aside to let me in. "No, 'why are you still here, Damon'?"

I scowled sourly at him, glancing around the Boarding House tentatively; this was only the second time that I had been here, and the first wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience. Something told me this wouldn't be, either.

"Why _are_ you still here?" I asked quietly, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my caramel-colored leather jacket.

Before Damon could answer, Stefan popped out from the top of the dark, wooden staircase and called down to me, "Sidney! I'm glad you're here. Where's Elena?"

"At school," I answered immediately, feeling awkward talking to my sister's vampire not-quite-a-boyfriend without her there.

Stefan's shoulders visibly relaxed, and he was down the stairs and standing in front of me before I could blink. "Good," he told me quietly. "I don't want her getting involved in this."

Understandably, I was immediately on my guard. "Involved in what?" I questioned suspiciously. "In the reason why you two haven't left town yet?"

They exchanged a glance that I couldn't read before Damon sniffed a little and turned to pour himself a glass of whiskey. "We," he announced after taking a sip from his crystal-cut glass, "have a problem. A jogger was found earlier this morning drained of blood. It wasn't me. There's another vampire in town."

"Okay," I began, trying to ignore the thickness in my throat that I'm pretty sure was panic, "how the _hell_ did that happen?"

"What are you glaring at me for?" Damon demanded sardonically. "I didn't turn anyone!"

"Maybe it's because every time something has gone wrong lately, you seem to be the one who's the cause of it," I replied with a scowl.

Damon opened his mouth to reply, shut it, shrugged, and then took a sip of his drink. "You may be right," he admitted, "but I really do have nothing to do with this one."

"Then do we know who they are?" I asked carefully, immediately deflating when Stefan shook his head. "So what, exactly, do you want _me_ to do about this?"

Damon set his glass down on a side table with a "clink", and pulled something round and silver out of his pocket. When he tossed it to me, I saw that it was a compass.

"Um..." I trailed off, not totally sure what they were expecting.

"It senses vampires," Stefan explained, nodding at the device. "We can't use it ourselves because we would interfere with the signal, and we were hoping that you could lead us to the other vampire."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, "I can do that-"

"When you find the vampire, tell us where he is and then get out of there," Stefan interrupted, looking more serious than I had ever seen him. "I don't want you getting hurt."

My mind immediately flashed to the wooden stake that I now carried around in my purse. I knew that one day of training didn't exactly qualify me to face down a vampire by myself, but some part of me relished in the fact that someday, with a lot of hard work, I could survive a fight with a monster.

"Thanks," I finally said, nodding, pocketing the compass. "So do I just call Stefan-"

"Call me," Damon told me, flashing a pearly white grin and making me frown. "Loverboy here will be too busy guarding your sister."

I wasn't too sure how I felt about that, I mused as I exited the Boarding House, compass in hand, and climbed back into my car. Not just Stefan guarding my sister- which I was relieved about, yes, but still- but this entire situation in general.

First: What the hell did Stefan think he was playing at with my Elena?

No. Seriously, I would like to know. Because he had made it perfectly clear two nights ago that he was, in no uncertain terms, leaving forever and never coming back for her. He had dragged her (and me by default) into this shitty, deadly situation, and then had the undead _balls_ to leave- which was a good thing! Hell, it was a _great _thing. But now- now he wanted to protect her? I mean, that's great and all- at least this way I didn't have to worry about whether or not this new vampire would hurt her- but still. Hadn't Stefan hurt her enough already? She didn't need anymore false hope from him.

And then there was the fact that the Salvatore brothers were _still _in Mystic Falls, and didn't show signs of leaving anytime soon, like they had promised. Another thing to be angry at them for- on top of the fact that Stefan was emotionally destroying my sister and Damon was dead set on bringing back a horde of vampires that wouldn't hesitate to kill me and everyone I've ever cared about if they got the chance.

Yeah, that was kind of a big problem.

I was drawn out of my thoughts by the metallic creaking of the compass needle as it spun and directed me onto Main Street and into the business district on the outskirts of town. Finally, after a solid twenty minutes, the needle stopped moving, pointing directly at a warehouse that I recognized from a huge party that Tyler Lockwood had thrown my junior year- that was the one where the cops had shut us down and his dad ended up getting all of us out of a jail ticket. I was pretty sure it belonged to the Fells, although I didn't know what, exactly, they stored there, seeing as how their book-printing company had gone out of business before I was even born.

Nevertheless, I pulled to a stop in the parking lot, whipped out the cell phone, and dialed the one number in it that I had never used before: Damon's.

"I found him," I said in a clipped voice the second that Mr. Douche-Canoe answered. "I'm at the old Fell Warehouse on the North side of town at the corner of Madison and Main-"

"I'm on my way," Damon interrupted, and I could hear things whipping by as he drove out here.

"Great," I replied, a little snappy, ready to be rid of him and to get this whole new-vampire thing over with. "How soon can you get here-"

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. Before I could scream, a hand wrapped around my mouth and I was whipped around to see Damon staring back at me, one of those damn smirks on his face. I pushed his hand away from my face and scowled at him.

"Get out of here," Damon instructed, already halfway across the parking lot. "Go meet up with Stefan and Elena. I'll handle this."

I nodded, blinked, and he was gone. With a sigh, I cast one, lingering glance back at the warehouse before turning back to my car, unlocking it, and clambering back into the driver's seat. Keys in the ignition, seat belt fastened-

And that's when I heard the gun shots.

I paused, my nose scrunching, eyes closing, and whispered to myself, "Don't go in, Sidney. He can handle himself. He can-"

Another shot rang out through the hazy, almost-sunset air, and I made up my mind. "Dammit."

Stake in hand, I jumped out of my car and ran into the warehouse without a second thought... Which probably wasn't the best of ideas, I discovered when the new vampire tackled me to the dirty, cement floor the minute I walked through the door and made my vision go black with spots.

And when they cleared, a vamped-out Logan Fell was staring down at me.

"Oh my God," was all I could think to wheeze out, and he gave me a pained smirk. That was around the time my newly-borne slayer-reflexes kicked in and I remembered that I had a stake in my hand that he probably hadn't noticed yet. With speed and strength I didn't know I had, I clenched my hand around the pointy piece of wood and jammed it upwards...

Straight into the bone between his chest and his stomach.

_Shit_, I thought, and then a clawed hand fastened around the stake, wrenched it from my grasp, and I was being flung through the air, over Damon's hunched form, and into a pile of dusty crates that groaned beneath my weight.

_Don't freak out, Sidney,_ I told myself, even when I felt my chest tighten as Logan Fell stalked across the warehouse toward me, blood smeared around his fanged mouth. _Remember what Carson told you- take stock of the situation-_

Logan let out an animalistic snarl and lunged, but before he could latch his teeth into me, shots rang out through the building and his shoulder lurched forward at the impact of a wooden bullet embedding itself in him. He snarled, clutched a hand to his wound, and was gone in a gust of wind.

I was silent for a minute, the breath knocked out of me, staring at Damon, who was kneeling across the room from me, blood seeping out of his back and hand clutched to his side, silver pistol aimed at the spot where Logan had been standing just a minute before.

I cleared my throat. "I guess we found the other vampire then," I tried weakly.

Damon just glared at me, tossing the gun away from him with a curse and groaning, "A little help here", while gesturing at the bloody mess that was his back and previously-white t-shirt.

"Right," I said, flushed, and rushed over to him, scrunching my nose up when I realized that he expected me to pull the bullets out of his back but doing it anyway.

We were silent as I tore them out, each one slimy with his blood, and the first few times I watched in amazement as the wound healed the moment the bullet was gone. But after a while the silence got too awkward for me, and I bit my lip before whispering, "You saved me."

Damon snorted as the last bullet was removed from his back and turned around to face me. "_You _saved _me_," he said, and then chuckled and smirked a little bit. "Or tried to, anyway."

The memory of my epic failure of a first mission actually managed to bring a small smile to my face, and I stood up, offering a hand to help Damon to his feet. "I guess that's just what we do then," I mumbled as we made our way out of the warehouse, me with the gun in my hand. "Save each other, I mean."

"Sure," Damon muttered, already whipping his cell phone out and dialing Stefan's number, "whatever."

* * *

Later, after Stefan informed us that Logan had made a pit stop at the career fair before kidnapping Caroline, Damon and I tore through the streets in an effort to save her before it was too late.

Later, after Damon ripped the car door off of its hinges and tossed the other vampire into the road, I was the one who shot him with wooden bullets and kept him down long enough for Damon to grab the stake from my purse and finish the job, but not before Logan hissed out, "I changed someone! If you kill me, you'll never find out who!"

Later, after the police sirens wailed in the distance, the Salvatore brothers practically threw me back into my car to avoid awkward questions from the MFPD who didn't know that I knew about the vampires.

Later, after Stefan and I had dropped Caroline safely back at her place and I had given Elena and Stefan a ride to the boarding house, I realized that I had actually enjoyed the feeling of shooting Logan with a gun full of wooden bullets- and that terrified me.

* * *

When my doorbell rang at an ungodly hour of the night (Read: twelve o'clock) for the third time that week, I didn't have very high expectations for who might be on the other side. But imagine my surprise when I swung the door open to find a smirking Damon on the other side, hands stuffed in the pockets of his signature leather jacket.

Fully aware of the fact that I was already in a ratty t-shirt and sleeping shorts with no bra and no makeup whereas he looked like a god, I crossed my arms over my chest and sourly asked, "What do you want?"

Damon grinned at me. "Stefan and Elena are shagging like bunnies over at the Boarding House," he told me, wincing a little. "Vampire hearing and all, and since everyone else in this town hates me-"

"What in God's name gave you the impression that I _don't_ hate you-?"

"- and sitting in the Mystic Grille gets old after a few months, I figured I'd see if you wanted to do something... normal and non-supernatural tonight- unless you wanted to have sex, because I can go ahead and tell you that it wouldn't be normal for you in the slightest-"

I held up a hand to stop him, not wanting to stare at his waggling, ungodly-well-formed eyebrows for longer than I had to.

"Let me get this straight," I growled, still not looking up at him. "You've abused one of my longest friends, manipulated my sister, killed countless innocent civilians, have made it perfectly clear that you would have no qualms with murdering me, and are dead set on unleashing twenty homicidal vampires on my hometown, and you want to _hang out_?"

"...yes?"

"It's not like there's any point in me saying no!" I finally spat out, exasperated, my hands flying in the air. "You're already invited in- you can come and go as you please!"

I blinked and he was behind me, smirking as he lead the way into the living room, the front door closing on its own in his wake.

"I knew you would come around, Siddie," he called, already investigating the entertainment system. "What do you feel like tonight? Mario Kart, movie, hot vampire sex-

"I am _not_ having sex with you!"

* * *

Anastasia sighed heavily as she watched her father load his many suitcases and duffel bags full of herbs and the family grimoires into his car- all but the three that he never brought with him on his trips: the Original Graham Grimoire, the Underworld Grimoire, and the small, leather-bound book that Anastasia carried with her wherever she went.

Mr. Graham slammed the trunk of his car shut and turned to face his daughter with a frown, running a hand through his thinning blond hair. "Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself?" he asked worriedly, because he may not have been at home very often, but he knew his daughter well, and she was understandably not very happy with him at the moment. "I don't like leaving you know with all these vampires in town."

"If you didn't like leaving me then you wouldn't go in the first place," Anastasia snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest and opening the screen door to the house. "I'm fine by myself- I always am. Tell Mr. Mikaelson I say hello."

And in the next moment, she was gone, before Mr. Graham could say another word.

He sighed, staring at the door she had disappeared through- and he knew what she wanted: for him to come after her, for him to yell at her, for him to ground her. But he didn't do it.

Instead, he got into his car, put the key into the ignition, called "I love you" to the empty garage, and left.

* * *

When Alaric heard the door to the apartment open and his daughter's cheerful voice call, "I'm home!", he immediately tossed his duffel bag of hunting supplies under the bed and dashed into the bathroom to wash the vampire blood off of his hands. Keeley searched for him for a few minutes, finally finding him as he dried his clean hands off with one of the towels.

"There you are," she said with her usual absent-minded grin, untying her apron and setting it on the counter as she followed him into the living room. "I kind of thought you had been abducted by aliens or something- crazy, I know, but still kind of sort of possible. Anyway." She shook her head and smiled again. "This is the part where you ask me how my first day waitressing went."

Alaric nodded benignly, hoping that she wouldn't notice him wince as he sank into his favorite arm chair. "Right," he said, well-used to Keeley's blunt advice when it came to parenting. "How did it go?"

And she was off, and Alaric was only half-listening as she chattered on about Vicki Donovan and the cute bartender and Caroline Forbes who had befriended her when she had asked about joining the cheer squad.

But that was okay. The important thing was that Keeley was safe- that the monster Logan Fell had become was dead and that Alaric had avenged Isobel, even if it was only just in this small way.

Because he _would _find the demon who had killed her. Even if it meant he had to kill every damn vampire in this town.

* * *

**A/N: So, yeah, super long chapter. I kind of wandered off the beaten path with this one, mostly because I wanted to explore a bit more of Keeley and Anastasia's characters, especially their relationships with their fathers. On another note, we have officially reached the halfway point of the story everybody! Please leave a review if you feel like it, and I really hoped you enjoyed this update. Hopefully the next one won't take as long as this one did.**

_**Next time:**__**Corbin and the rest of Sidney's friends make another appearance for the big Homecoming dance, and Logan's new vampire causes Sidney to come to terms with her killer instincts and learn the truth about Anastasia.**_


	13. Killer Instinct

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 13: Killer Instinct**

I had to admit, I looked kind of sort of smoking hot.

My usually fluffy, hard to manage hair had been straightened into sleek, shiny, chestnut-colored locks that hung down my back, and my green eyes had been highlighted with shimmering shadow and several coats of dramatic black mascara to the point where they were the same color as a pair of four leaf clovers. The shimmering champagne of my Homecoming dress brought out what was left of my summer tan, detracting from the bruises I had sustained during training, and the nude-colored heels lengthened my already-long legs so that I looked elegant and graceful, even if I was anything but.

"You're gorgeous," Anastasia told me, peering at my reflection in her bedroom's full-length mirror.

Even if I agreed with her, I knew I was nothing compared to her: Her, with her perfect, ivory skin and rosy cheeks. Her, with her glorious blond curls lightly pinned into a loose bun, random wisps framing her heart-shaped face. Her, with the happy light missing from her deep blue eyes that I knew was caused by her father leaving once again.

But she had already told me that she didn't want to talk about it, so instead, I said, "Thanks!", grinned, applied a coat of lip gloss, and grabbed my clutch. "Ready to go?" I asked, staring at both of our reflections in the mirror, framed by sparkling Christmas lights- Anastasia's decoration of choice.

She checked her reflection one last time, trying and failing to pin back one of her stray curls, before nodding.

We tromped down the spiral staircase, our high heels making clicking sounds against the hard wood, and Anastasia locked the front door behind her before we slipped into my car and started down the road to the Grille. We were supposed to be meeting Andrew, Corbin, Colin, Madison, Sutter, Elena, and her friends there for dinner before all of us would carpool over to the dance at the school. We wouldn't see Caroline until Homecoming, mostly because she was the one who had organized the entire thing- with a little help from new-girl Keeley, her new best friend, according to a very irate Elena.

My sister had not had a very good week.

Apparently, Stefan and Damon's ex-girlfriend? Katherine? Yeah, Elena didn't just _look _like her; they were exact replicas of each other. Elena had discovered this shortly after banging Stefan when she found Katherine's portrait sitting on a side table and immediately called me, bawling, begging for me to pick her up and take her home.

Damon, who had been kicking my ass at Mario Kart when she called, had decided to tag along for the ride there and back, and was present when (who we suspected was) Logan Fell's new vampire stepped into the road, almost causing us to crash. Damon gave chase but wasn't able to catch him/her, bringing us to where we are now.

I sighed as Anastasia and I walked through the doors of Mystic Grille, my eyes immediately landing on my melancholy sister, elegant (and scowling) in a navy-chiffon dress.

"Did you borrow my black heels?" I asked, taking the seat across from her and raising an eyebrow.

Elena glared at me. "Yes," she muttered, and then sighed. "You know I only have flats."

Something in her expression told me not to push it, so instead I opened my menu and scanned the options, already knowing exactly what I wanted. "How's Stefan?" I chanced, risking a look at Elena.

She sighed and dropped her chin onto her hand glumly. "He's called seven times today," she divulged, "and he keeps trying to talk to me after class... I just..."

"I get it," I said softly, and that was the end of that conversation.

Corbin, who was sitting across the table from me, took the opportunity to give me an appreciative look. "Nice," he whistled, grinning roguishly. "Sometimes I forget how hot you can be."

I glared daggers at him, fighting back a smile. Once I got around the whole fuck-boy thing, I found that I actually really liked Corbin. He was fun and far too confident for his own good. When I was around him, it was easy to forget about vampires and hunters and blood.

"Right back at you, Baker," I tossed back, folding up my sticky, plastic menu as our waitress came up to take our orders. Our food came a few minutes later, and the table was filled with happy chatter as we all dug in.

Across from each other, Corbin and I debated the pros and cons of Hammer Horror films versus 1960's horror films while Elena softly explained the ins and outs of the vampire world to Bonnie, who had surfaced from her self-imposed exile for the first time since the night she had been possessed. Anastasia and Andrew were canoodling in the corner while Matt, Tyler, and Sutter looked on in distaste. Madison and Colin were both devouring their respective dinners so they wouldn't have to talk with each other, although I caught the wanting looks they shared every five minutes out of the corner of my eye.

"So, no date?" Corbin asked quizzically once we had stopped gushing on about _Sleepy Hollow, _raising his eyebrows at me over the rim of his glass of Coke. "What about Stefan Salvatore's brother? Don't the two of you have like a thing, or something?"

I jammed my fist in my mouth to keep from laughing hysterically. _Me _and _Damon Salvatore_? Like that would ever happen!

I mean, I could see why he would think something was going on between the two of us, if I was being honest. We _had _been spending a lot of time together: what with our continuing Mario Kart death match that had stretched over the whole week and his constant appearances out of nowhere to exchange sarcastic comments, sexual innuendos, and insults we didn't really mean.

"No," I finally choked out, smothering my giggles. "Not in a million years."

Corbin shrugged with one of those knowing, annoying smiles that I was really beginning to hate. "If you say so."

Not much longer, at around eight o'clock, we decided it was time to head over to school for the dance so we wouldn't have a repeat of last year's Homecoming- we had made the mistake of going to Olive Garden where we were served by an incredibly slow waiter, and didn't end up making it to the school until ten-thirty.

Elena, Colin and Madison all hitched a ride with Bonnie while Matt and Sutter rode with Tyler in his dad's Lexus, leaving Anastasia, Corbin, Andrew and I to all pile into my Toyota- Damon had named the rust bucket "Sammy" when he had seen it sitting in my driveway two days ago. I wasn't totally sure why, and when asked, Damon shrugged and said that it "just fit". I decided to take his word for it.

Before I knew it, we were pulling up to the school, illuminated with so many lights I was surprised the town wasn't going through a black out, and walking up to the gym doors, where we were met by Caroline, resplendent in a short, sparkling back dress.

"Sidney!" she cried, throwing her arms around me. "I'm so glad you're here. At least _someone _went with the theme." She sent a withering, pointed glare at Bonnie and Elena.

"The theme?" I repeated cluelessly, blinking at her while Corbin sniggered behind me. "Right! The theme! That!"

"Glitter," Caroline told me, like _does it hurt to be that stupid_, as she motioned at the set up behind her: sparkling table cloths, Christmas lights, tinsel and silver and gold streamers everywhere.

"Yes," I said, nodding rapidly, "glitter. Great theme."

Caroline, obviously aware of the fact that I had no idea what she was talking about, rolled her eyes and said, "Thanks, but I can't take credit for it. Keeley came up with the entire thing."

Keeley Satlzman, who had been standing behind her looking seriously cute in a shiny turquoise dress, flushed happily. "Glitter is my favorite color."

I didn't have the heart to tell her it didn't count.

Strange theme aside, Caroline Forbes really knew how to throw a party. The music thumped and pulsed through our veins as we moved to the beat, flashing lights and swirling glitter glowing over our heads. I switched dance partners again and again and again: grinding against Corbin to jumping up and down with Sutter to slow dancing with Colin to swing dancing with Andrew to twirling around and around with Anastasia and Elena as gold confetti poured down over our heads.

Corbin jokingly grabbed me for the third slow song of the night, and the two of us waltzed dramatically around the room until, when he spun me out and away from him, a very different, larger pair of hands wrapped around my hips, dangerously close to my butt, and I found myself face to face with a very amused (and, beneath that, very concerned) Damon Salvatore.

* * *

There was something wrong with Andrew, and Anastasia was afraid that she knew exactly what it was.

She may not have been a very loud person, but what she lacked in volume she made up for in observation, and the fact that she had barely seen her boyfriend in two weeks made her very, very suspicious. Add to the fact that he had been jittery and nervous all night and the constant, longing glances at her neck, her wrists, the pulse behind her ear...

Anastasia didn't want to believe it, but her if her father had taught her one thing, it was this: Always assume the worst of people.

In the middle of the slow song they were dancing to, Andrew stopped, pushed her slightly back, and stared down at her. His eyes kept flickering between the dusty brown she knew and loved and the dark red she didn't want to believe was there.

"You want to go somewhere a little more... private?" he suggested.

Anastasia closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. Her dress had pockets and there was a certain, emergencies-only elixir she had with her that she knew she would need to use before the night was done.

The question was: Could she?

Fighting back tears, Anastasia breathed deeply and made up her mind.

"Yes."

Andrew smiled predatorially, closed his hand around hers, made for the doors of the gym, and just like that, his fate was sealed.

* * *

"We have a problem," Damon told me, completely ignoring Corbin, who was staring at us in confusion.

I sighed heavily. God forbid I should have _one _normal, sane, fun night this year without any vampires mucking the whole thing up.

"What else is new?"

I heard Corbin snort from somewhere behind us over the loud guitar music. "'Nothing will ever happen' my ass," he mumbled as he meandered away.

I flushed. "What is it this time?" I asked Damon as he skillfully maneuvered us off of the dance floor and into a dark, secluded alcove. To anyone who didn't know us, it may have looked like we were making out. For some reason, my blush grew even stronger at the thought. I found myself wondering, for a split second, what it would be like to kiss him, before shaking my head and silently laughing at myself.

_He is an asshole, Sidney. An undead, way too hot for his own good, asshole. _

Damon was obviously unaffected. He smirked at me, a glimmer of _something _in his eyes, as if he knew what I was thinking, and pulled a familiar little compass from his pocket. "We found Logan's vampire," he told me quickly, handing it over to me. "He's somewhere in the school."

I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know which human he had hypnotized into doing his dirty work for him, so I just nodded quickly and reached for the small stake strapped to my thigh beneath my dress, and removed my heels.

Damon's eyes grew so wide I thought they might pop out of their sockets. He whistled appreciatively. "Damn, Siddie," he began, some of his long-gone Southern accent seeping out as he joked. "What else are you hiding in there?"

Scowling, I swatted his leather-clad, muscular arm and asked shortly, "Where are Stefan and Elena?"

Damon rolled his eyes and rolled a shoulder over to the other side of the gym. I saw Elena standing there, red-faced with her arms crossed over her chest, whispering angrily to a chagrined Stefan with Bonnie lurking behind her in a defensive stance. I was proud of her.

_Give him hell, 'Lena,_ I thought, hoping somehow the statement would telepathically reach her, before tightening my hand around the compass Damon had given me and forcing my mind into team-captain mode.

"I need to get away from you to find the other vampire," I told him, trying to ignore the way my heart pounded at the prospect. "You and Stefan will interfere with the compass's signal. Tell Carson where I've gone and for the love of God, keep Elena out of this."

Damon nodded, I handed over my high heels ("What the hell do you expect me to do with these death traps?"), and I was off once again, compass in hand.

Hopefully this foray into the world of Slaying would go better than my first.

The minute the doors to the gym closed behind me, it felt like I was the only one in the school. I could dimly hear the pounding of the music as I silently crept up and down the hallways like Carson had taught me, compass in one hand and stake in the other as I carefully watched the needle spin back and forth, confused by Stefan and Damon's presence behind me, before settling on a direction and pointing me up the stairs to the second floor.

I knew I was being followed; the tingling feeling on the back of my neck told me as much, and so did the slight breaths Carson let out as he tailed me down the hallway. Something told me that the Salvatore brothers weren't far behind- a scream away, probably directly below us.

For some reason, the thought didn't comfort me as much as it should have.

Finally, the compass needle came to a creaky stop, pointing directly at the door to my Government and Economy class room. I lightly tapped my foot against the floor, and in the next second, Stefan and Damon were on either side of me and Carson was emerging from the shadows. The Salvatore brothers looked at each other, nodded, and Damon kicked the door off of its hinges.

What I saw was not what I was expecting.

* * *

Anastasia thought she had been prepared to deal with a vampire- she had been completely and utterly wrong.

The minute Andrew pounced, it was like every muscle in her body froze and she was suddenly very, _very_ scared. His hand clenched around her mouth, silencing her screams, and the other tore at the neck of her dress until the seams burst, ripping down to her waist, cold air pricking the skin of her meager chest. With almost inhuman strength, she was tossed unceremoniously onto the teacher's desk, sending all of the papers and knick knacks crashing to the floor.

She reached for the glass bottle in the pocket of her dress but was stopped by pain ripping through her neck as Andrew bit down. Anastasia screamed, but it couldn't get out around the pressure Andrew's hand was applying to her mouth. Something hot and wet dripped onto her cheek, and when she glanced up, he was crying.

Something in her broke. Anastasia paused momentarily, before struggling even harder.

She was _not _going to die like this.

There was a loud _crack_, and Andrew stopped short as the door blew off of its hinges. Standing there were the three people Anastasia had expected to see the least: Stefan and Damon Salvatore, and-

"What the hell?" Sidney shrieked.

* * *

I wanted to cry. Andrew and Anastasia and blood and her crying and her dress ripped open and why couldn't the vampire have been _literally anyone else_?

Stefan and Damon didn't wait. Immediately, they sprang into action, Stefan ripping Andrew away from my best friend and Damon grabbing a stake from his back pocket. I ran to Anastasia, Carson behind me, and helped her off of the desk, her clutching at the shredded remains of the front of her dress.

Oh God, did she have to find out like this? This isn't how I had wanted her to know- if I had wanted her to know at all. This was how _I _had found out and it had been awful- the nightmares and the flashbacks and the terror-

Andrew escaped from Stefan's grasp, tossed Damon into the wall, and lunged for Anastasia. I jumped in front of her, stake raised, in some effort to stop him, but she beat me to it, pulling something out of her pocket and smashing it into his face.

He howled. His skin rippled and boiled, flesh peeling away and blood dripping out of the gashes. In another second he was gone, and I stared at Anastasia in shock.

What _was_ she?

"Split up and find him," Stefan ordered, ripping the wooden leg off of the teacher's chair as a make-shift stake. "Carson stay with Anastasia. We need to catch him before he gets outside. I'll cover all the exits. Damon, go upstairs. Sidney, take this floor."

We nodded and ran our separate ways, me trying my hardest not to think about the fact that my best friend knew about vampires and had somehow managed to melt the face off of one, or that if I found the guy I had been in love with for two years now I may or may not be forced to murder him.

Before I knew it, I was alone, traipsing up and down the dark hallways, peeking into every room I passed. There was a slight creaking sound as I reached the stairwell to the third floor, and when I glanced up, Andrew was clinging to the ceiling, baring his fangs at me like something from a horror movie.

I didn't scream. I didn't yell. I didn't think. I just reacted.

Andrew let out a yowl and jumped down at me, my right hand lurched up, and somehow, I managed to stab my stake into his heart. He went still, and all at once his weight dropped onto me and I went down, the tip of my weapon driving through even deeper, sticking out his back.

He made a harsh, guttural sound, and it was like he turned to dry clay, cracking and crumbling until there was nothing left but a still, dead shell of a person.

He was lifted off of me suddenly, and Damon was standing over me instead. We stared at each other for a minute, and I didn't really know what to think, but then he was hauling me to my feet, and I think maybe he carried me back to the classroom, because I blinked and we were standing in front of it, with Stefan appearing beside us.

Elena and Bonnie had arrived while we were gone, and both of them were fretting over Anastasia as she waved off Carson's attempts to bandage the wound on her neck.

"I'm fine," she insisted before catching sight of me and jumping to her feet. "Sidney!" she cried. "Oh, God, are you hurt? There's so much I need to tell you, I-"

"What are you?" I demanded, and at that moment it was like we were the only two people in the room.

Anastasia looked like she was about to cry, and I didn't really blame her. What had she been keeping from me for so long? Was she a witch?

"I'm not a witch," she told me quietly, as if she could read my mind, and then immediately hesitated. "I mean, not exactly. My father and I... we're alchemists. We create potions and perform rituals, but we don't have magic powers." She looked at Bonnie pointedly. "Not like you, anyway."

Damon sighed heavily from beside me, and I glanced up at him quickly. "You might as well tell them everything," he said, and my jaw dropped.

Had he known?

Anastasia shifted uncomfortably. Her hair had fallen from its twist and she looked wild with her dress in tatters and blood dripping down her neck and onto her chest.

"I've known about the vampires for a while now," she divulged. "My father... He's a sort of alchemist for hire- he has clients that he performs rituals and makes potions for, and some of them are vampires and werewolves and all other sorts of things that I shouldn't really be telling you about. He told me the truth in seventh grade, and I've been learning how to make potions ever since. We've learned everything we could about Mystic Falls since moving here, and we figured out the Bennets were witches a long time ago. It wasn't that hard to realize Stefan and Damon were vampires, either."

I felt sick. I couldn't believe she had kept all of this from me. I couldn't believe that I had kept all of this from her. I needed to get away. I needed to get away now.

I ran.

* * *

When Damon found me, it was well past midnight and I was sitting on my bed, flipping aimlessly through pictures of me and Anastasia, wearing nothing but leggings and a tank top; I hadn't even showered or bothered to take off my makeup. A cold breeze ran across my bare shoulders, and when I looked up, Damon was standing in front of my open window, a blank expression on his face.

I stared at him. "Anastasia is an alchemist."

"That she is."

"And you knew."

"That I did."

"And you didn't tell me."

"That I did not." He sighed then and flopped down next to me, picking up the pile of photos and setting them on my bedside table. "Kid's a spit-fire," he continued, staring at a picture from Spring Break two years ago, both of us in bikinis at the lake with our arms wrapped around a smiling Corbin's shoulders. "She threatened to kill me if I hurt you."

"What?" I demanded. "When?"

"That first night I met her." Damon set the photo down and glanced at me over his shoulder. "I went to go see her after dinner and figure out what was so weird with her. She almost burned my face off when I tried to bite her."

I swatted the top of his head with a lot less feeling than usual, and the two of us were silent for a long time.

"I used to think I was in love with him, you know."

Damon snorted softly. "Who? Andrew? Please, Siddie, you could do so much better than him."

There was something _more_ to his voice when he said that, but I chose to ignore it and hugged my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. My eyes were still suspiciously dry, even as I choked out, "We've been friends forever. We grew up together... And I _staked _him, Damon- I _killed _him."

"Stefan killed our father," Damon said suddenly. "I'm pretty sure it was an accident, but still. And I murdered my own nephew in cold blood, if it makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't, but thanks anyway."

He just stared at me, more of that _something_ in his eyes again.

I shook my head and stared out the open window at the cold black sky and the invisible new moon and the shining stars I could see above the street lamps. "Does it get any easier?" I asked softly. "Killing people, I mean. This... This guilty feeling- does it go away?"

He seemed to think about it for a minute, and that human, vulnerable part of him flashed across his eyes for a brief moment, but then he shook his head, jumped to his feet, and pasted a smirk across his face.

"You know what you need?" he asked slyly, wrapping a hand around my forearm and pulling me to my feet. "A good old fashioned road trip with your very best friend on the whole planet."

"No," I replied immediately, trying to back away from him. "No way. No chance in hell- God dammit, Damon! Put me down!"

He just laughed, hoisting me over his shoulder and making for the window. "Where's your sense of adventure, Siddie?" he teased.

"Can I at least grab a jacket?"

"Nope."

"Shoes?"

"Nuh uh."

"A bra?"

"You're kidding, right?"

Damon jumped from my window, landing soundlessly in the front yard, and the next thing I knew he was dropping me unceremoniously in the passenger seat of his powder blue Mustang. He at least took some pity on me, though, because I blinked and a lacy bra that I never wore and pair of sneakers were in my lap. I glared at him as he clicked the child-lock on and began to pull out of my driveway.

"You're kidnapping me!" I told him, annoyed. "No one knows where I am, you're forcing me to do this, and _this is kidnapping_-"

He rolled his eyes. "Kidnapping is such a strong term- I prefer gentle prodding-"

"Fuck you, Damon."

Damon grinned at my incensed expression. "There's my favorite human. I was wondering where you went."

And with that, he shifted the car into high gear, and the two of us fell silent until we passed through the town limits.

"Will you at least tell me where we're going?" I asked in an exasperated voice.

"Atlanta."

And that was all I heard from him for the rest of the night. Not much time passed before I fell fast asleep, lulled by the sound of the world rushing past us, and the silence of the unknown.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter- I've lost a lot of inspiration for this story, but I refuse to abandon it because I really love this show and I really love what I have planned for the future; it's just a bit hard to get to it. I hope you enjoyed this, nonetheless, and you can expect the next chapter around the end of next week. Leave a review if you feel like it, and thank you so, so much for reading!**

_**Next Chapter: Damon and Sidney are attacked by a vengeful vampire in Atlanta, and the truth comes out about their relationship, Elena's true parentage, and an alternate way to get Katherine out of the tomb.**_


	14. Monster

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 14: Monster**

Road tripping with Damon can honestly only be explained by this one, simple description: normal and mildly terrifying.

It was normal to wake up in the passenger seat with gas station coffee in the cup holders and the windows rolled down as the sun rose. It was terrifying to realize that Damon had tucked his jacket around me while I was sleeping because that was a distinctly _boyfriend_ move. It was normal to switch between radio stations every couple of miles and sing along very badly and very loudly. It was terrifying to pull over at a Chicfila for me to get lunch and for him to go hunting in the nearby woods (although he swore his biggest catch was a deer). It was normal to complain when we hit a bad patch of traffic or when we had to park a block away from our as-yet-unknown-to-me destination. And it was terrifying to watch Damon compel the parking guard to give us a free spot.

The streets of Atlanta were slightly chilly, and Damon let me wear his over sized leather jacket as we walked down two blocks, turned right, and passed through the door of a dusty little bar in Midtown.

On the inside, The Rusty Dog looked exactly like it sounded: The floors were dark gray cement and the floors slated wooden planks. Dusty sunlight poured in from the warped window panes, and a dark-skinned woman with tight black ringlets who spied Damon from behind the bar and squealed.

"Darling!" the woman cried, hopping over the counter, striding to us, and giving Damon a big kiss on the lips.

He pulled away with a _smack _and a satisfied smirk in my direction. "Bree."

I watched on in horror. Oh God. Had Damon kidnapped me so I could third wheel on a _date_ with him? I had gotten enough of that with Elena and Stefan!

All I could think to say was: "I missed leg-day for this."

Bree gave me a long, thoughtful look, before sticking her hand out for me to shake. "I'm Bree," she told me. "Just Bree. Welcome to the Rusty Dog, sweetheart. One of Damon's I presume?"

"No," I said quickly. "_God _no- we're not- I would never-" I sighed and shook her outstretched hand. "I'm Sidney Gilbert. He kidnapped me-"

"_Gentle prodding_."

"-because he's an antisocial freak with no other friends."

Bree stared at us. "Right," she said slowly, and then smiled. "Nice to meet you, Sidney."

I shifted awkwardly, staring between the two of them, the kiss still wearing on my mind. "So are you two...?"

Damon laughed and slung an arm around my shoulder. I scowled and tried to remove it but he wasn't having it. "No need to worry, Siddie," he said into my ear. "I am still very much on the market."

"Aren't you still in love with Katherine?" I asked innocently, finally managing to shake off the weight of his arm.

That made him pause, the smile he had been wearing for the first part of the day slipping off. "I am indeed," he said casually, but I wasn't buying it. His tragic backstory was rearing its ugly head again. "Which reminds me: We need to have a little conversation, Bree."

So _that's _what this was about. He wanted another way to get Katherine out of the tomb.

She sighed heavily and started walking for the bar, gesturing for us to follow along after her, calling over her shoulder, "What now, Damon? I already told you how to get your girlfriend back. You got the crystal, didn't you?"

"About that." Damon hopped up onto one of the greasy-looking bar stools, patting the one next to him for me to take a seat. "The crystal's been destroyed."

Bree's red-lipsticked smile dropped. "Then so have your chances of getting her back. The tomb isn't opening without that crystal. I _told _you."

Damon glanced around the bar, face soured in that way it did before he killed someone, before leaning forward, across the counter, saying, "Come on, Bree. There has to be another way. Can't you just undo the spell?"

"Nu uh, darling." Bree glared at us, even as she smacked down two glass bottles of Corona, not even bothering to ask for my ID (not that I had one, but still). "You know how this works. I can't undo another witch's spell without serious repercussions. Sorry darling, I'm not risking it."

"But is there another way?"

Bree hesitated, and I took the opportunity while I had it.

"Hold on!" I smacked a hand on the counter top, making the two of them look over at me, probably having forgotten I was even there. I pointed an accusing finger at Damon. "You're still trying to get Katherine out of the tomb?"

He rolled his eyes and took a swig of beer. "Yes, Siddie," he said dramatically, second eye-roll included. "Keep up."

"What part of 'twenty-seven really angry vampires are in there with her' did you _not _understand?"

"What part of 'I don't care' did _you _not understand?"

I stared at him for a minute. It was easy to forget about Damon's feelings for my hometown. I didn't even really know how he felt about _me_. Would he even care if one of those vampires he was so bent on releasing killed me? Killed my family?

Finally, I sighed, glared at the bottle of beer, and twisted the cap off. I took a huge swallow before setting it down with a bang. Damon gave me an impressed smirk and mimed clapping his hands. I scowled at him.

"I'll help you get Katherine out," I told him. He opened his mouth, but I raised a finger and closed my eyes. "_If_," I stressed, "_and only if_ she"- the finger was pointed in Bree's direction- "can find a way to do it without releasing any of the other vampires."

Bree looked hesitant, but at a pointed look from Damon, slowly nodded. "Let me think up something for you, sweetheart," she told me. "I can do it."

That was bullshit and I knew it, but at least this way I could help make sure Damon wouldn't do anything rash and possibly town-threatening. He was going to open the tomb eventually, but if I was there, maybe I could keep the other vampires away.

Maybe.

Damon smirked at me and stuck out a hand. "Then it's a deal?" he asked innocently, but I could see something sinister in those blue eyes of his.

I bit my lip and frowned at him. "Deal."

* * *

Anastasia let out a frustrated groan as another one of her calls went to voice mail, and chucked her phone across the living room and onto her couch. Sidney wasn't picking up, and she was really starting to get worried.

She ran her hands through her messy blonde hair, trying not to think about _another_ pair of hands tugging at it, and stared despairingly at a picture Sidney had taken of the two of them. It was sitting on one of the side tables, and in it, the two of them were five, both in flowery Easter dresses, faces covered in chocolate and mouths turned up in wide smiles.

Anastasia briefly wondered if they would ever have a moment like that again (happy, carefree) and whether or not Sidney would even want to be friends after this.

She shouldn't have kept what she was a secret. Anastasia knew that. But she had been scared. Her mom had left because of what she was. What her father was. She hadn't been sure if she could take being abandoned _again._

Shaking her head, Anastasia reached for the much-used grimoire sitting on the coffee table and flipped to the page she had been considering all day: _Decouvrir Praeteritum. _It was a simple elixir, one that could help her find out where Sidney was and who she was with, although, considering Stefan had been trying to find Damon all day, she had a pretty good idea.

All it took were a few mint leaves, some holy salt, blood, and something important to Sidney. A few minutes later, Anastasia had driven her very old (and very prone to breaking down) Honda to the Gilbert house and used her spare key to go inside and hike up the stairs to her best friend's room. Her eyes zeroed in on _the _camera, and if she hadn't been worried before, she certainly was now.

Sidney would never leave without that.

A few seconds and a prick of the finger later, Anastasia was sitting on the bed, watching glowing outlines of Sidney and Damon argue back and forth, and eventually, Damon grab her and leap out a window. The spell faded and Anastasia frowned.

Granted, Damon had kidnapped Sidney, but Anastasia doubted that she was in any _real _danger. If anything, she was running away from her problems; and apparently Anastasia now counted as a problem.

With a miserable sigh, Anastasia got to her feet and raked another hand through her hair. "Come home soon," she whispered.

There was a lot they needed to talk about.

* * *

By the time Damon finally convinced me to call Aunt Jenna, it was going on midnight and Bree was just now getting around to telling us how to get Katherine out of the tomb: Only a Bennett witch could undo the spell on the church, and the incantation was inside the family grimoire. The only problem was that no one had seen the grimoire in a century, although I suspected Damon had a pretty good idea of how to find it.

Conspiracy theories (or rather, being totally and completely sure of the fact that Damon was lying to me) aside, Damon and I had learned a lot about each other that day: like the fact that it took four beers to get me drunk and fourteen to get Damon drunk, and like the fact that Damon danced on tables to ABA songs when he was smashed and I was a killer beer pong player.

I shook my head, trying to get rid of the image of Damon stripping while someone blared "Dancing Queen" from their phone, and flipped through my contacts, eventually reaching Jenna's number and bracing myself before dialing.

"Where the hell are you?" she demanded the second she answered. "Do you know how _worried_ we all are? Your sister gets in a car accident and the first thing you do is run away from home?"

I sighed heavily. "Hi to you, too, Aunt Jenna."

"Are you alright?" she asked immediately. "You're still alive? Were you kidnapped?"

"No, I- well..." I shook my head, glaring at the bar. I was standing in the parking lot, shivering a little, despite the warmth from Damon's jacket. "I'm fine, Aunt Jenna, I promise. I just... I needed some time away from Mystic Falls and, um, Damon Salvatore was taking a trip to Atlanta and he offered to let me come along-"

"_Damon Salvatore_?" Jenna repeated, and I could practically hear her eyes widening. "The man who's spent every day the past two weeks sitting on our couch playing video games? The one whose little brother is dating your sister? _That _Damon Salvatore?"

"Yes, that Damon Salvatore," I replied, glaring at him through the window of the bar, or more precisely, at his smirking face. "And no, before you ask, we are not dating."

"You're grounded," Jenna told me immediately. "For- for forever."

"I'm eighteen, so that's not really legal-"

"_For two weeks_," Jenna said sternly. "And if you aren't home by tomorrow morning you're grounded for another three!"

"Yes ma'am," I said miserably. _Good bye 50's dance I've been looking forward to for a month._

Jenna sighed heavily on the other line. "I'm glad you're safe," she finally told me. "I'll see you soon, and I love you."

"Love you too," I replied.

One down, one to go.

This next one would be even harder, but seeing as Anastasia had called me twenty-eight times today I figured I kind of had to call her back. It wasn't like we needed to add _more_ tension to our friendship- it was already hanging by a very thin thread.

"Oh my God, Sid!" Anastasia exclaimed once I had called her. "Thank God you called! I knew you were with Damon but I was still _so _worried-"

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, nose wrinkling. "You knew I was with Damon? How-?"

"There was this elixir... It doesn't matter. I-!"

There was a _snap_ from behind me, and when I turned, it was to see the silhouette of a man outlined by the lights of the city. With a frown, I reached for the stake strapped to my leg...

Only it wasn't there. Damon had dragged me out of the house before I could grab one-

Turned out it didn't matter. The next thing I knew, a stiff arm had leeched around my waist, squeezing a terrified scream out of me, and the parking lot disappeared from beneath me.

Shit.

I had been kidnapped.

For the second time in two days (even though Damon didn't really count).

I really needed to work on this whole Slayer thing.

* * *

"Sidney?" Anastasia shouted into the phone. "Sidney!"

There was no answer, and she started panicking. All she heard was a small scream and a _whoosh_ing sound, but she had a terrible feeling. Stefan, Elena, and Bonnie, back from her fall into the tomb, were there with her in the Salvatore Boarding House, all of them debating whether or not Damon might hurt Sidney, when Anastasia had gotten the phone call. Now, Bonnie was staring at her, mouth open in shock. There was a troubled look in Stefan's eyes, and Elena had started freaking out.

"What happened?" Elena demanded. "Is she okay? What was that?"

Anastasia just shook her head. Sidney had obviously been attacked by something, and on the off chance that it hadn't been Damon, then he didn't _know_ she had been attacked, and on the off chance that she wasn't dead already, then he might be able to save her...

"Give me your phone," Anastasia told Stefan.

His eyebrows rose and mouth began to part, but before he could say anything she insisted, "God dammit, Stefan. My best friend could be dying, so _give me your phone_!"

He nodded and handed it over, and with just a bit of hesitation, Anastasia dialed the number.

"Speaking," Damon answered in a slurred voice. "What is it this time, Steffy? I promise I haven't killed anyone lately."

"It's not Stefan," Anastasia said in annoyance, forgetting for a moment who she was talking to and what he could do to her if he got mad. "Where is Sidney?"

She could practically _hear_ him rolling his eyes on the other line. "Just outside, talking to her aunt or some other boring human- Shit."

"She's not there?" Anastasia clarified, starting to panic again.

"No." Something whipped past the speaker, and muffled horns honking and sirens blaring leaked through, probably from Damon running outside. "Shit. No, she's not here, I-"

Bonnie wrenched the phone away from Anastasia, hands clutched around Sidney's camera. Her eyes were brighter than usual, and Anastasia knew that she was having a premonition.

"The water tower," Bonnie commanded. "Hurry."

The other line went dead, and Damon was off.

* * *

Have I mentioned I hate heights? Because I really do- hate them, I mean. They terrify me out of mind.

I clenched my hands around the bars of the water tower, feet slipping around the edge, the soles of my sneakers trying to find purchase, and the leather of Damon's jacket rubbed against the base, the weight of it tipping me forward and drawing a terrified whimper from my mouth. I watched with wide eyes as Damon appeared under the lights of the streetlamp, rushing up to my kidnapper and snapping an arm across his stomach.

The other vampire responded quickly, somersaulting back and away from Damon. The next thing I knew he was there again, something pointy and long in his hands, and I let out a horrified screech when he plunged it through Damon's shoulder with unnatural strength, impaling it in the asphalt of the abandoned parking lot we were in.

"Damon!" I screamed. Was he dead? _Oh God, please don't let him be dead._

The other vampire appeared in front of me. He was young, my age, with messy brown hair that reminded me of Jeremy and this pained look in his eyes. With shaking hands he grabbed my neck, raising me in the air.

My eyes widened at the drop below me and I grappled at his arm, wheezing for breath. "Why are you doing this?" I managed to choke out.

"He killed her," the other vampire sobbed, and to my surprise, tears dripped down his face. I hadn't known vampires could cry. "He killed Lexi, so now I'm going to kill you."

"Lexi!" I repeated. My eyes flickered to Damon's form as he struggled to remove the stake from his shoulder in time. "You knew Lexi?"

"I loved her!" the vampire spat. "I turned for her. And now... She's gone. She's gone and it's _his fault_!"

Before he could drop me, I shouted, "Wait! What's your name?"

"Brandon Quinn," he answered begrudgingly.

"Brandon," I said desperately, tears beginning to form in my eyes. "Brandon, please, don't do this. Don't- Lexi wouldn't _want_ you to do this-"

"How do you know what she would want?" Brandon screamed at me, fingers loosening, and I let out a shriek, thinking he was about to drop me.

"I met her! The night she died- I was there. She seemed _nice_-"

His face twisted. I had said the wrong thing. "You were _there_?" he hissed. "You were there and you didn't stop him? That's all the more reason for me to kill you!"

I closed my eyes. He was about to let go.

And then there was a thump. My eyes flew open in time to see Damon standing there, the stake that had been in his shoulder now through Brandon's heart...

And I was falling. My feet slipped off the water tower, my hands grasped at open air, a shudder ran through my body...

Arms wrapped around me, warm and sturdy. The screaming stopped, even though we were still falling, and Damon cushioned the impact by cradling me to his chest protectively. My bones jarred together when we hit the asphalt, and I knew I was going to have bruises, but we were alive.

We were alive and Brandon wasn't.

Damon had killed him.

_For me_.

* * *

"Are you sure you're fine?" Damon asked skeptically once we had arrived back at The Rusty Dog. We had walked back. I didn't think I could stand any more vampirism tonight, super-fast running included. "I think you're in shock... or whatever the hell humans call it."

He was tense- had been ever since the water tower. I shivered again and pulled his jacket closer around me, biting my lip. I hadn't taken it off all day, and he didn't seem to mind.

I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home very badly.

"I'm fine," I told him, both of us knowing it was a dirty lie. But then again, there had been a lot of lying that day. "Let's just go. Please? Can we go?"

Damon glared at the bar. Bree had a hand in my kidnapping, and we both knew it. "I need to say goodbye to my friend," he told me, venom in his voice and in his eyes.

He made for the glass doors but I reached a hand out and latched onto his arm, stopping him.

"Don't," I told him, on the verge of tears. "Just don't. She's not worth it. No one else needs to die for my sake tonight."

"I won't kill her," Damon told her, meeting my eyes.

Another lie.

I knew that. I knew that, and I nodded and let him go anyway.

I couldn't change him. No matter how hard I tried I would never be able to change him, and that knowledge hurt more than anything else that night: more than Brandon choking me or throwing me off of the water tower, more than that terrifying second where I was so _sure_ that I was going to die.

No. What hurt the most was what little truth there was to the day: I wasn't good enough for Damon, and I never would be. He wanted Katherine.

And I was going to help him get her back, even if it killed me.

* * *

Later, I called Anastasia and Elena to let them know I was alive.

Later, Damon got into the car with a blank expression on his face and blood on his hands, and we both knew who it was from.

Later, we swore to each other, again, that we would get Katherine out of that tomb without releasing any of the other vampires, and this time, Damon was genuine.

Later, as the lights of Atlanta faded behind us, I slipped into an uneasy sleep, unaware of the bright blue eyes watching me from the driver's seat.

* * *

Sidney was not beautiful; not in that traditional, glamorous way that Damon had come to expect from the human women he interacted with. She wasn't like Katherine and Elena, all old-word elegance and haunted brown eyes. But Sidney was unique.

Her hair was fluffy and soft-looking, and sometimes Damon wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through the long, chestnut brown waves. She had twisted it off of her neck that day, in a messy pile on the top of her head, and now, Damon saw the freckles on the side of her neck- or rather, the two in a straight line, one on top of the other, the perfect width for a pair of fangs. Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to bite down on that one spot and taste what he had been smelling for months: ripe apples, lavender, and a breezy autumn day. She was tall and athletic, not petite, like he usually favored, although as she was now, curled up in his jacket, she looked very small and fragile. But Damon knew the truth. He had seen it sometimes in the burning fire of those glorious green eyes of hers: like on the rare occasion she kicked his ass in Mario Kart, or those times when someone threatened the people she cared about, or that time she gunned down Logan Fell and that other time she staked her crush through the heart.

She was not beautiful, but she was unique, and that was enough.

Sidney was not easy; not easy to read, not easy to manipulate (at least not now), not easy to hide from. She wasn't like Bonnie or Caroline or even Anastasia. Not the cookie-cutter spunky girl or the typical popular girl or the basic shy girl. But once again, Sidney was unique.

She was determined: she protected the people she loved. She was scared, but she trained and kicked ass anyway. She knew how to have _fun_. She saw through Damon's infinite supply of masks and lies. She put up with his shit but knew how to handle him when he took it too far. And she _saw_ him. She _saw_ that tiny, almost-dead, human part of him that Stefan had always believed was there, but beyond that, when Damon was around Sidney, his humanity grew.

Until someone threatened her.

Damon's hands clenched around the steering wheel, causing the leather to split down the seams, and muttered a curse when he remembered the look of pure, genuine terror in her eyes when she thought Brandon would throw her off of the water tower.

Great. Not only had this one, insignificant little _human_ screwed over his life, she had also managed screwed over his car. And he _loved _his car.

So no. Sidney was not the kind of girl he usually favored.

But here's the thing: Damon had to be extra careful around her. Because Sidney was exactly the kind of girl he could fall in love with.

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, not one of my best chapters. I'm definitely going to be going back and editing this at some point, probably after the trilogy is over (and yes, this is going to be a trilogy. I have it completely planned out). Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed my story, and please leave a review!**

**Next chapter: **_**Sidney discovers the truth about Elena's adoption and decides on the future of her and Anastasia's friendship. Elena gets a stalker, and it's up to Sidney and the Salvatores to get rid of him. Stefan discovers Sidney's deal with Damon.**_


	15. What Team? Salvatore!

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 15: What Team? Salvatore!**

_December 5th, 2012_  
_I am very grounded._  
_I guess I kind of deserve it, what with running away with Damon and all, but it really sucks, mostly because I haven't been able to talk to Anastasia about the whole alchemist thing. _  
_Yeah. That's kind of a big problem._  
_On another note: Elena is adopted. She told me two days ago. I can still barely believe it, but it's true, and she's really mad at Jenna for not telling her about it earlier. I don't really blame her- I would be upset, too._  
_I just can't believe it. Elena and I are so close, closer than any sisters I've ever seen, and to know that we're not actually blood related?_  
_I don't know. I don't love her any less, but... Things are different now, I guess? I just need time to think about all of this._  
_Sincerely,_  
_Sidney._

* * *

"Dear Diary," Damon mocked in a high, girly voice, pretending to read over my shoulder but really watching the horror movie playing on the TV, "Damon Salvatore is the sexiest man on the planet. I can't wait to have incredibly hot sex with him-"

"Don't even!" I scoffed, elbowing him in the shoulder, trying to ignore Jeremy, who was laughing from his seat in the armchair next to us.

It was Friday night, almost two weeks after Damon and my trip to Atlanta. Things had been reasonably normal since then, even if I was under house arrest. Damon and Stefan snuck over whenever they could, and my team mates kept me sane at soccer practice. Jenna was at a Philosophy conference a town over, so it was just my siblings and I for the night. We had taken the opportunity to have the Salvatore brothers over, Stefan to help Elena figure out the vervain jewelry situation and Damon to take advantage of our WII and my little brother.

I had asked Anastasia to come over. We needed to talk.

Right on cue, the doorbell rang.

With a heavy sigh, I disentangled my legs from where they were sitting on Damon's lap, straightened out my dress, and padded over to the door. Predictably, Anastasia was standing on the other side, looking very nervous in a powder blue sweater with a pleated, tweed skirt and boots. She gave me a weak smile and whispered, "Hi."

"Hey," I replied quickly, suddenly a little anxious, tugging on the end of my ponytail and biting my lip. "Um, let's... Let's go upstairs."

"Yeah," Anastasia replied, bopping her head up and down quickly.

A few seconds later we were upstairs (me trying to ignore the smirk Damon had sent me over the back of the couch), and I clambered onto my bed, pulling my favorite green cardigan closer around my shoulders. I would need comfort to get through this conversation.

Anastasia stood awkwardly next to my desk instead of curling up next to me on the bed like she usually did. Had things really gotten so strained between us?

I cleared my throat. Someone was going to have to start, and it wasn't going to be Anastasia.

"So... alchemy?"

She nodded. "Alchemy." There was a slight pause as she drew out a small notebook covered with white cloth and embroidered with little blue and purple flowers and handed it to me. When I flipped open the cover, I saw, written in childish, loopy, slightly-messy cursive that I knew very well: _Anastasia Graham's Grimoire_.

"This is yours?" I asked, stating the obvious. She nodded. I started flipping through the pages, and the only sound for a few minutes was paper slipping between my fingers. Finally, I bit my lip and handed the book back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked softly.

She shrugged numbly. "I guess I was scared," she divulged, running hands through her hair. "I mean, it sounds crazy, right? My dad and I crush up random plants and put blood in jars to make magic? You'd have to be insane to believe that."

"Not as insane as you'd have to be to believe in vampires," I muttered.

There was silence again.

"I didn't tell you about alchemists," Anastasia whispered, "but you didn't tell me about the Salvatores. I had to find that one out for myself."

I bit my lip and hugged my legs to my chest, forgetting for a minute that I was wearing a dress."Really?" I snarked, a little bitter. "Because from what I could tell, you knew about them a lot longer than I did. What was that the night you first met Damon? You ran out like you knew exactly what he was-"

"My dad had warned me there were vampires in town!" Anastasia snapped at me. "We made an elixir to let us know who it was and-"

"But you knew before I did!" I screamed at her, jumping to my feet, face red and angry. "You knew and you didn't tell me!"

"I _tried_ to warn you!" Anastasia shouted back. "I tried to warn you, but you didn't _listen_\- you never do! And what was I supposed to say: they're vampires? Would you have even believed me? Because my mom didn't believe my dad when _he _told _her_-!"

"Your mom left because she was _fucking a bartender, _not because you and your dad are witches!"

We both stopped short. She looked like she was about to cry. I couldn't believe what I had just said.

"Oh my God," I whispered. "Oh my- I shouldn't have said that. 'Stasia, I _really _shouldn't have said that-"

She gave a sob and made for the door. I reached out a hand, latching onto the sleeve of her sweater, and called, "'Stasia-!"

"Don't!" She yelled, throwing my hand aside. "Don't you _dare_, Sidney Gilbert. You know not to bring that up! You know, you-" She choked up here, tears streaming down her face, and gave a loud cry before throwing her arms around me and sobbing into my shoulder. I eased us into a sitting position on the floor and we sat there while she collected herself and I beat myself up for opening my mouth in the first place.

I was a fucking dumb ass.

"I'm sorry," I whispered once she had quieted down a little bit. "Anastasia, I am so, so sorry. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have done a lot of things. I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have kept secrets from you, and I shouldn't have..." I sucked in a heavy, shaking breath. "I should have been there for you when you needed me," I told her. "I haven't been the best friend to you lately, but I'm here now, and I promise I'm not going anywhere."

Anastasia laughed wetly into my shoulder. "You're not the only one who's been a bad friend," she mumbled. "I should have told you a long time ago, but-"

I shook my head. "You're right," I admitted. "I probably wouldn't have believed you." I faltered. "I, um... Andrew..."

Anastasia let out another sob. Even I was crying now.

"I just want to forget about Andrew," she murmured. "I wish he'd never even existed, but the police are asking questions and his parents and-"

I got to my feet with a frown, pulling her up by her hand and biting my lip. "You know what you need?"

"No, but I get the feeling you're about to tell me."

"A change." I smiled triumphantly, and, spying the scissors sitting out on my desk (I had been spending my ridiculous amounts of free time scrap booking), I picked them up and mimed snipping off her long, curly locks. "How about a haircut?"

"What? No!" Anastasia immediately exclaimed, hands flying to her head protectively. "My dad would kill me-"

I rolled my eyes. "But your dad isn't here, is he?"

She faltered, a pensive look crossing her face. "I mean... you've got a point," she murmured, eyeing the scissors in a new light. "Maybe-"

There was a knock on the door and Jeremy's head slipped through the crack, eyes closed. "Are you dressed this time?" he asked, scared.

"Yes, Jeremy. Don't worry. Your virgin eyes aren't going to be dirtied by- God forbid- a boob," I snarked back, setting the scissors aside- for now.

He opened his eyes and immediately rolled them. "Pizza guy came. You might want to get downstairs before Elena eats it all. Also, Damon beat your high score on WII Tennis."

My jaw dropped. "He did _what_?"

* * *

"Oh my God, you actually cut your hair."

As it turns out, short-haired Anastasia looked a lot like Carrie Bradshaw from _Sex and the City_, all long neck and prominent cheekbones. Her hair had been chopped off to her collarbone, curling in soft, shimmering layers. She wasn't even wearing the dress she had been sending me pictures of all week; it was in her hands, a bubblegum pink confection of roses and chiffon. Instead, she was in boyfriend jeans and a yellow, gingham, sweet heart-necklined top that fastened up the front, showing her delicate collar bones and petite frame to its best advantage. The only semblance of winter wear was the light pink scarf around her neck.

She looked nothing like she usually did, and I loved it.

"Here," Anastasia said with this determined look on her face, stuffing her original dress into my hands. "Put this on. We're going to the dance together."

"Um..." I laughed a little as she brushed past me and closed the door. "What part of 'grounded' did you not understand?"

"The grounded part." Anastasia stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to me, blowing a short piece of side bang out of her eyes and planting her hands on her hips. "Come on, Sid, live a little!"

"I would," I told her, really tempted, because I had been looking forward to this dance for forever, "but Jenna's chaperoning. She's got the hots for the new History teacher, Keeley's dad."

"Ew." Anastasia's nose wrinkled.

I bit my lip and shrugged. "Have you seen him? He's a total DILF."

"DILF?"

"Dad I'd Like to Fu-"

"Okay! Okay, I get it!" Anastasia was blushing scarlet, hands raised in the air before the last word could escape. She had always hated cursing. She ran her hands awkwardly through her hair before looking at me again and saying hopefully, "You're the adventurous one, aren't you? What could be more adventurous than going to the dance and hiding from Jenna all night?"

I bit my lip and rolled my eyes. "Nice try," I told her, "but no."

And that's when I heard Elena scream.

I was off immediately, blood pounding in my ears as I sprinted up the stairs, stake in hand, and threw open the door to her bedroom. A man in a dark hoodie was standing over her crumpled form, sprawled around a tipped-over bookshelf, and I scowled when I saw the fangs protruding from between his lips and the black of his eyes.

"Leave her alone!" I yelled, lunging for him.

He dodged my stake, but not the potion Anastasia had thrown at him, and he hissed when it hit him, causing his flesh to boil, disappearing out the open window in a gust of wind.

I turned to Elena, my chest heaving up and down in exhaustion, and tossed my stake onto her bed, kneeling over her form and hugging her securely. But when I pulled away, there was a suspicious frown set in place on my mouth. "What the hell was that all about?"

* * *

Elena was being stalked by a crazed vampire obsessed with drinking her blood. He also happened to be the pizza delivery guy from last night, which meant he could get into the house.

We were seriously fucked.

"How the hell did this happen?" Damon demanded, raking hands through his dark hair and pacing frantically back and forth across the living room. He turned to Elena with a glare. "And why didn't you tell us?"

He was worried. I could tell. Neither he nor Elena would admit it, but they had developed a sort of kind of, ridiculously weird friendship over the past few weeks, seeing as Damon had practically moved in.

"What was I supposed to say?" Elena growled at him, rubbing the bruises on her back. "'Oh, hey. So I just found out my mom abandoned me when I was a baby and I have a vampire stalker now. Have a great night'?"

Damon snarled and was in front of her in a flash, crazy-eyes on full glare. Elena recoiled and leaned back into the couch. "So it never occurred to you that your little fan might be _dangerous_?"

I scowled and stepped between them, making Damon back up by placing my hand against his chest. "Okay, one? Fucking take a step back. And two: Instead of arguing about the past, let's figure out how to keep this freak from murdering my sister."

He didn't look happy about it, but Damon, glowering, backed away until he was standing on the other side of the living room without a word. Stefan glanced between the two of us with a concerned frown, before clearing his throat and getting up from his position on the arm of Anastasia's chair.

"Sidney has a point," he muttered, "and I have a plan."

"Oh, great." Damon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what are we now? The fucking Scooby Doo gang?"

* * *

After a few minutes of arguing, we came up with an answer to Damon's question: Yes. We were, in fact, "the fucking Scooby Doo gang" now. Only with vampires- the real kind. And a neurotic alchemist and her monster-slaying best friend and said monster slayer's possibly (probably) insane little sister.

Anyway.

Stefan's plan was simple. We would all attend the dance at the school, me avoiding Jenna at all costs, and try to lure the stalker out. The minute he was isolated, we would strike and take the sick asshole out.

* * *

Anastasia's dress was uncomfortable. The crinoline skirt was scratchy against my unshaven legs, the whalebone bodice was stabbing me in the stomach, although Damon had assured me that it wasn't drawing blood, and the strapless top plus my huge boobs didn't mix very well. Also, it was still a bright, bubble gum pink with swirly roses and tutu-style skirt. I hated it, but there was absolutely no chance of Jenna recognizing me in it, so, you know, it worked.

It was as I was standing on the side of the gym, as far away from Jenna and Mr. Saltzman as I could get, tugging on the skirt of my dress, that a pair of hands wrapped around my waist and I was pulled into a firm, warm chest.

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to turn around. "Hey, Damon. Shouldn't you be dancing with some poor, naive girl right about now?"

"I'm not Damon," an amused, unfamiliar voice whispered in my ear.

Before I could scream, the very vampire we had been searching for skimmed the tips of his freezing cold fingers against the side of my neck and continued, in a poisonously pleasant tone of voice, "Make one wrong move and I snap that pretty little neck in two seconds flat."

I nodded slowly, but what the vampire didn't know, was that across the room, my eyes locked with Anastasia's. A look of shock and worry immediately ran across her face, but then she had disappeared into the crowd, and I could only hope that she was warning the others.

My heart was pounding in my ears and I longed to reach for the stake strapped to my leg, but I knew I couldn't- even if my skin was crawling where he touched me and even if I wanted to throw up even more with every passing second. But one wrong move could end my life, and my sister needed me.

"Glad to see you understand," the vampire told me. "Now, take out your phone and call your dear little sister."

_Stay the hell away from her!_ I wanted to scream, but instead I drew my cellphone out of my bra with shaky, robotic hands, and dialed the familiar number. It rang twice before Elena picked up.

"_Hello? Sid?_"

The vampire snatched the phone out of my fingers and, keeping a firm hold around my waist, began edging us toward the back door as he spoke. "Look toward the back of the gym. I have your sister."

"_What? Who is- Oh my God! Don't touch her! Don't you dare touch her you fu-_"

"Uh uh uh, Miss Gilbert," the vampire tutted. "There's no need to be so unpleasant. I'm sure Sidney wouldn't appreciate that very much." His hand moved from my waist back up to my neck, and my breath caught in my throat. Elena went silent. Then: _"What do you want?_"

"Come to the cafeteria," the vampire instructed. "And come _alone_. Tell your Salvatore buddies that Sidney's life depends on them not being there."

"_Okay_." Elena's voice sounded out of breath, like she was always making her way out of the dance. "_Okay, I'm coming- just... Just don't touch her. Don't touch her or I swear to God-_"

The vampire chuckled, and wind rushed past me, and before I knew it we were standing in the middle of the empty, dimly lit cafeteria. "I can't promise anything dear, sweet Elena."

And with that, he hung up, removing his fingers from my neck for a split second.

I took the opportunity while I had it, and before I even knew what I was doing I had whirled away from him, exactly like Carson had taught me two days ago, and had my stake in hand and ready to be rammed into his chest.

He had the nerve to laugh at me. "Oh, I nearly forgot. You're supposed to be some kind of vampire hunter, aren't you-"

So I jammed the stake into his stomach.

* * *

Later, Elena burst into the cafeteria, out of breath, and I ran to her screaming.

Later, Anastasia ran in with the Calvary, and Stefan and Damon had us girls leave while they "talked" to Elena's stalker to see if he knew anything about Katherine or someone else trying to open her tomb. He did. He had known Katherine- been in love with her, like most people seemed to have been- and that was the reason why he had been so obsessed with Elena.

Later, we ran into Mr. Saltzman in the hallway, and he seemed very, very suspicious.

* * *

The night of my second kill, the Salvatores formally requested that Elena and I spend the night at the Boarding House; Stefan under the pretext of wanting to make sure my sister was safe, and Damon because he knew Stefan had found out about our deal and figured both of us should be there to explain.

He was right. The minute I walked through the door, Stefan barked out "sit", and waited patiently for me to plop down onto one of the leather couches before going off on the both of us about opening the tomb.

To my surprise, it was Elena who spoke first once he was done.

"I want to help," she spoke tentatively. It was the first thing she had said since the scene in the cafeteria.

Damon stared at her incredulously. "You what?"

"_I said_ I want to help." She fixed him with a stony glare and crossed her arms over her chest in that stubborn, selfish, bratty way I remembered fondly from the pre-accident days. "If you're going to open the tomb, then I want in."

"No," Stefan said immediately. "No, you're not doing it. You're _human_. It's too dangerous."

"Sidney's human," Elena responded impetuously.

"Sidney is also a vampire slayer. There's a difference."

"Maybe there is," Elena mumbled, "but you have no right to tell me what I can and can't do."

I probably would have kissed her right then and there, but I wasn't exactly thrilled about the fact that my little sister was getting involved in this. Stefan was right, for once. What had happened tonight was proof of how dangerous this would be. Blood relative or no, I wanted Elena as far away from this whole affair as possible.

So I said, as firmly and maturely as I could manage, "He may have no right, but I do. _You_ aren't going anywhere near that tomb. I don't want a repeat of what happened tonight, and I don't really know how Katherine is going to react to coming face to face with an exact copy of herself after spending two-hundred years as a barely-living corpse."

"She has a point," Damon interjected from beside me, his arm, as usual, slung over my shoulders. "Katherine can be very violent sometimes."

Elena sent me a withering glare, and then she pulled her trump card. "Only a Bennett witch can undo the spell," she reminded us, apparently having listened very closely to Damon's retelling of our (horrific) time in Atlanta. "And the only one of us with the slightest chance of convincing Bonnie to get involved with vampires is me."

She immediately succeeded at shutting all of us up for a solid ten minutes, and while we stared at her, all three of us not quite sure how to express the abject frustration (and reluctant admiration) she had inspired in us.

"I am going to shower," she told us, "while you three argue with each other about letting me join. I'll be back by the time you realize there's no other option."

And with that, she flounced away. I couldn't decide if I was proud or pissed at her for re channeling her inner cheer-captain.

"She- she just..." Stefan stuttered, his eyes bugging out of his head. It was the most expression I had ever seen from him before, and in that moment I was positive that he was very much in love with my little sister.

I still wasn't quite sure how I felt about that.

"I mean, she's right," Damon groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "Baby Bennett isn't exactly crazy for the two of us, and neither is the old bat."

I scowled and smacked him over the head. "Be polite," I chided. "They both have a good reason. You're an asshole."

"You make a very good point."

Stefan glared at the two of us. "So what the hell are we supposed to do?" he growled. "We need her help but she could die doing this, and it's ridiculously obvious that none of us want that to happen."

I took a deep breath and stared at the stake in my hands- the stake that had already taken two lives with me as its wielder, and countless more when it had belonged to my father. Carson had told me that I had a responsibility to save people as a slayer, and it was clear to me now what he had meant.

I had power. And now that I knew just how much power I had, I needed to decide how I was going to use it. Saving the townspeople from vengeful vampires by teaming up with Damon was a good start (even though I was doing it for the completely wrong reason- because of my own, personal feelings for said douche bag, but that's besides the point), but I didn't think I would be willing to sacrifice the people I loved for it.

But the thing is, I didn't have a choice this time. I wondered if I ever really would.

So I tossed the stake from one hand to another, and whispered, knowing both brothers could hear me loud and clear, "We protect her."

* * *

Sidney was asleep again. It was four in the morning, and as Damon stood in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at the rumpled form in the center of his blankets, he briefly wondered if he was transforming into Edward Cullen by staring at an unconscious human so often.

It wasn't like he climbed through her bedroom window every night or anything- he wasn't that much of a stalker (despite what Sidney might say). These two times had just been a coincidence.

Shaking his head, Damon flitted down the stairs, trying to ignore the sounds of Edward and Bella- err, _Elena and Stefan_ shagging like angry, horny bunnies in the attic. A part of him knew they would betray him at some point, expected it like he expected the sun to come up every morning and for Sidney to smack him for an offhand comment at least once a day, but the illusion of friends was nice while it lasted.

He snorted at himself. _Friends_. Like that would ever happen.

Although, he and Sidney were friends. Damon knew that much, at least, even if he wasn't really sure how he felt about it.

No, wait. He knew exactly how he felt about it. He was just shoving it down deep, deep inside of the swirling vortex of despair known as his consciousness until Katherine was out of the tomb and he had more time and opportunity to think about it.

Because, right now? Every moment he spent with Sidney Gilbert felt like he was spitting on Katherine's grave, every affectionate touch or smile or joke a stake to her heart, and every fleeting admiration of brilliant, blazing green eyes a betrayal to Katherine's memory. Losing her took a piece of Damon's heart away, and he wouldn't get it back until he found her again. Sidney was irrelevant until that happened. Elena and the council and _Stefan_ and every person in this God forsaken town.

Nothing mattered but getting Katherine out of the tomb.

It was as Damon was pouring himself a glass of whiskey that there was a knock on the door, and when he swung it open, a smirk grew on his lips at the sight of the man standing on the welcome matt.

"Alaric Saltzman." Damon stepped aside, waving a hand toward the living room. "Please. Come in."

* * *

_**Next chapter: Sidney counters Anna for the first time, and she and the rest of the Scooby Doo gang discover the truth about Alaric Saltzman and the location of the grimoire, but an unexpected betrayal throws a wrench in their plans.**_


	16. How I Became More

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 16: How I Became More**

_In the dream, I was cold._

_Snow swirled past me in beautiful, sinister patterns, and the wind howled, biting at my ears and tearing my long hair around my face. I smoothed it down and shivered. I certainly wasn't dressed for this weather; my breasts heaved up and down as I gasped for breath, restricted by a black, velvet corset and long skirt, the flowing white undershirt I was wearing not nearly thick enough for a winter night like this._

_There was a large pile of fabric abandoned a few yards away from me, and I forced myself to my feet, scrambling over to it, hands and feet numb from the ice and snow. But when my fingers closed around the furry cloak, they came away dark red and sticky._

_"Stefan!" I shrieked, turning his dead body onto its back. He was paler than usual- wax-like, too, as if he hadn't moved in ages. There was film over his eyes and blood pouring from a wound on his neck-_

_That's when I tasted it. His blood, I mean. It was filling my mouth. I was choking on it. It spilled over, dribbling down my chin, and I couldn't help but swallow it. I hated the taste: filmy and salty, like I had a handful of pennies in my mouth._

_Had I done this? There were bite marks on Stefan's throat- had I been the one to leave them there?_

_But there were more than just Stefan. As I looked around, I was able to make out more bodies in the dark. Elena and Anastasia and Bonnie, Jeremy and Jenna and Uncle John, Carson and Corbin and Sutter._

_I screamed, sobbing, falling to my knees and biting down so hard on my lip that I broke the flesh, and the blood was stilling swelling in my mouth, choking me. I couldn't breathe-!_

_"Siddie!"_

_A pair of large, familiar hands wrapped around my shoulders and turned me to face the man's voice. It was Damon, smiling down at me._

_Only not._

_It wasn't _my_ Damon. It wasn't the Damon who would wrestle with me for the Wii remote or who laughed at me when I couldn't figure out how to work the shower in his bathroom. It wasn't the Damon who made constant sexual innuendos and didn't try to pretend like everything was going to be okay. _

_This was the _other_ Damon: the one who had killed Lexi and Brandon Quinn and Vicki. This was the Damon The Murderer._

_The one that I hated._

_He hauled me off of my feet and into his arms, and I shuddered when I felt his cold nose skim up and down the length of my blood-coated neck. _

_"Congratulations, Siddie," he whispered in my ear. "You did it. You killed them for me- for us!"_

_My eyes widened. _I _had done that? I had killed my sister and my friends and Stefan and- _

_I choked back another sob and tried pulling away from Damon's tight embrace. "Us?" I repeated, jerking back and forth as hard as I could. "What do you mean _us_?"_

_I felt him smile against my neck. "Katherine and I, of course."_

_And then there she was. I had never seen her before, but I knew. She looked like a crueler, harsher, more beautiful version of Elena, sweeping across the snow in an immaculate, cream colored dress, her chocolate brown hair curled beautifully around a swan-like neck. She smirked at me._

_"Little Miss Sidney Gilbert, I presume," she purred, eyes flashing dangerously toward the hold Damon had around my waist. "Oh yes, I've heard about you. You're the one helping Damon find me."_

_I bit my lip, the taste of blood strong on my tongue. "And so what if I am?"_

_Katherine smiled at me. "I'd have to thank you," she admitted. "And then, I'd have to kill you."_

_All of a sudden, there was a familiar, stinging pain in my neck. I screamed, and Damon's fangs stabbed deeper into my throat, already beginning to drain me dry. Black spots sprayed across my vision, and I started to fade._

_Just before I dropped, the world went up in flames, and I saw Katherine one last time. _

_"Stay away from him. He's mine."_

* * *

I woke with a shout, bolting straight up in bed, hands immediately flying to my neck. The skin was smooth, unbroken. It was just a dream.

So why did I still taste blood?

With a soft whimper, I swung my legs out of Damon's silk-covered four-poster, shivering a little when my bare feet touched the cold floors, and padded over to his bathroom. I switched on the light and winced.

I looked like death. My brown waves were in rumpled disarray around my face, and my eyes were still clouded with sleep and just a little bit of fear left over from my nightmare. I must have been biting my lip in my sleep again, because the flesh had been split open in two distinct indents, letting blood dribble down my chin and fall into the valley of my breasts, displayed by the t-shirt I was wearing. There was an irritated imprint running down my cheek. I looked a lot like I had lost a fight with my pillow.

Taking a deep breath, I placed my hands palm-down on the marble counter top and squeezed my eyes shut. "Water," I whispered. "I just need some water."

That would fix things, I told myself. That would fix the emptiness I felt and the doubt in the back of my mind that maybe it wasn't just a nightmare.

That maybe it could even come true.

I took deep, steadying breaths as I padded out of the bedroom and down the stairs. There were two vampires in the house, and I was a little embarrassed by my pounding heartbeat. They could totally hear it, and I knew Damon would make fun of me for it.

He was in the living room when I passed it on my way to the kitchen. The fire was low in the hearth, and he sat in one of the winged arm chairs, nursing a decanter of whiskey-

With Alaric Saltzman's dead body at his feet.

* * *

Even now, looking back at that night years later, I'm still not quite sure what to think of it.

I didn't cry this time. Maybe because I had already used up all of my tears for that month. And I didn't scream, either. There wasn't any point. Damon only listened to my whispers.

So there wasn't any screaming, or crying, or even any questions. I just remember standing there, staring at Alaric's body as Damon told me what had happened. Alaric had come to kill Damon, and Damon had defended himself by killing Alaric.

It sounded so simple, when he put it like that. But it wasn't. It most certainly wasn't.

Alaric had a daughter. Her name was Keeley, and she was so, so nice. Sweet, happy, innocent. A little annoying, maybe, but I liked her. I saw her with Caroline all the time, laughing or goofing off with the rest of the cheerleaders.

She didn't have a mom, and now, she had just lost her dad. She was an orphan now. _Just like me._

And Damon was not just a cold-hearted murder- at least not all the time, that is. People cared about him. _I _cared about him. So did Stefan and Elena. And he cared about us, too. Not that he'd ever show it.

So it was complicated. Very, very complicated. And it became even more complicated when Elena and Stefan came downstairs and saw the body.

Then there was shouting and crying and questions, and I was still just standing there. Still just staring, with this numb feeling in my chest and snippets and bits of my nightmare flickering through my head. So I was the only one who saw the exact moment when Alaric came back to life.

That was when I started screaming.

Later, we figured out how he came back. It was the ring that Isobel had given him that Uncle John had given her that my grandfather had given him that Jonathan Gilbert the first had given-

Well, I think you get the picture by now.

But we didn't know how Alaric had come back then, so I had kind of assumed that he was a vampire now (Read: _another_ vampire who hated us), so I had kind of decided to fix the problem before it became a problem, so I kind of tried to stake Alaric in the heart.

It didn't seem to go over well with him.

* * *

"Ouch!" I hissed, batting at Damon's hand as he dabbed alcohol onto the scratches on my forehead.

He rolled his eyes. "Stop being a pussy."

"But it _stings_."

I had never been a very good patient. Mom used to sit on my stomach while Dad dug splinters out of my hands as a kid.

With a frown, Damon pressed the cotton swab even harder into my gash, causing tears to spring to my eyes. He noticed them, of course. "I thought you would have a higher pain tolerance than this, Siddie," he commented off-handedly.

I frowned at him, biting my lip, and watched thoughtfully as he threw the cotton ball away and screwed the cap back onto the bottle of Peroxide, unboxing a few butterfly bandages and dolloping disinfectant onto them liberally.

He seemed so normal during times like these. So human. It made it hard for me to believe that he was a vampire who had taken countless innocent lives, and even harder for me to believe that he wouldn't hesitate to take mine the minute I ceased to be "useful" or "entertaining" to him.

That sent an unpleasant curdling feeling straight to my stomach, and I shifted uncomfortably before whispering, in a soft voice that I wasn't quite sure I wanted him to hear: "How many people have you killed?"

Damon paused. He didn't look at me, refused to meet my eyes, and then shrugged, a rueful smirk on his lips.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" I repeated gently. I swung my feet back and forth from my perch on his bathroom counter, not quite touching the tile floor.

I felt very small at that moment.

"I lost count," Damon grunted, letting me see his eyes again. They were guarded, dull, and I hated them.

My hair had fallen around my face in loose, dark waves, and he tucked them behind my ear as he pressed bandages onto my wounds and continued, "I've been alive for a long time, Siddie... And I've killed a lot of people. I don't exactly have the desire to tell you about all of them. This isn't a confessional, and you're not a priest."

I nodded then, knowing better than to push it, but inhaled sharply when he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me off of the counter top. In another second we were in the sitting room, squeezed onto the leather love seat together, and Alaric was sitting on the couch across from us, frowning at the bloodied stake in his hands, while Elena nursed a mug of tea from her seat on Stefan's lap.

Damon's hands were still around my waist, and I didn't think he was planning to remove them anytime soon.

As Alaric told us his story, and as Elena wondered if his Isobel could be the same as her Isobel, and as Stefan and Damon somehow convinced him to help us get Katherine out of the tomb, I could only think one thing:

Damon was still killing people, and my nightmare was coming true.

* * *

"So he's helping us now?"

It was Sunday night a week later, and Anastasia and I were getting ready for the bachelor auction in my bedroom. I wasn't really sure what the event was for- something about raising money for Founders' Month- but Mrs. Lockwood was paying me to take pictures, so I wasn't complaining. Anastasia, Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline (and Keeley by default) had offered to come along to make things a little less boring for me, and while I wasn't exactly looking forward to the night, I wasn't exactly dreading it either.

I shrugged, trying to decide whether or not to wear my hair up or down, and bit my lip. "I guess," I muttered. "I mean, it's not like Alaric's going to be knocking down the doors to the tomb himself, but he's promised not to try and kill us anymore, which is nice."

Anastasia let out a faint laugh, wrapping her hair methodically around a wide curling iron. "That's good," she told me in her soft, floaty voice. "Him not trying to kill us, I mean."

I didn't respond to her joke, which I guess was out of character for me, because she set down the curling wand and switched it off, staring at me in concern. "It's Damon," she asked, "isn't it?"

"He..." I trailed off before nodding, scraping my teeth against my bottom lip while tying my hair up into a messy ponytail. "He's a killer, 'Stasia," I explained lowly, reaching for an eyeliner pencil. "I forget that sometimes."

"Do you like him?"

Her question took me by surprise. I jerked up, away from my mirror, streaking eyeliner across the side of my face and nearly falling off of my stool.

_Did _I like Damon?

I didn't. _I didn't_! ...Right?

I mean, it made absolutely no sense. He was a vampire, I was a vampire hunter. He enjoyed killing people as a form of anger management, I enjoyed going for runs around the park. His best friend was me, mine was an alchemist with daddy-issues. He was the Jane to my Daria, the Shaggy to my Scooby, and the Doc to my Marty.

In other words, we were just friends. Totally platonic, _just _friends.

I was helping him rescue his psycho-bitch ex-girlfriend for God's sakes! I mean, what girl does that for the guy she likes? I wasn't an idiot. I knew what was going to happen once Katherine was out of that tomb. She wouldn't want me going anywhere near Damon after that, and I knew it. Hell, I'd be lucky if she didn't rip my throat out once she learned about me sleeping over!

So why was I doing it? Why was I helping him?

Maybe Anastasia was right. Maybe I really did like Damon. It would certainly explain a lot of things, like the heat that flew up whenever he touched me and traveled straight to my stomach, or the overwhelming need I felt to make him feel less alone.

I couldn't answer her question. I didn't know the answer to her question. And I still didn't know it as I walked into The Grille with Anastasia and my family nearly an hour later.

Damon following me around, arm firmly around my shoulders for the whole night didn't really help, either.

"What's up with you, Siddie," he asked a few hours in, right before he had to go onstage for the auction. "You've been acting like a head-case all night and it's starting to weird me out."

I paused mid-photo and glanced at him, fingers shaking where they hovered over the shutter-button. How the hell did he expect me to answer that? _Oh, sorry Damon. I'm acting weird because I may or may not like you as more than a friend. What was Katherine like, by the way? I'm sure we'll be the best of friends once she gets out of that tomb._

"It's nothing," I lied instead, taking the picture and straightening up, glaring at him when he offered me a glass of champagne. The last thing I needed tonight was to get drunk. "The Isobel-thing has got me shaken up, is all."

"Yeah, no kidding," Damon muttered. His eyes were fixed securely on Alaric, who was flirting up a storm with Jenna near the stage. Yet _another _thing I didn't know how I felt about. At this rate, I would be back in therapy before Christmas.

I bit my lip and stared at him. A few minutes and a few more pictures passed, and then we were seated in a secluded booth, taking a break, Damon sneering at the jazz band and me picking cautiously at a Ceaser salad.

"How did you meet Isobel, anyway?" I asked in between bites.

Damon shrugged. "She sought me out, if you can believe it," he told me, one of those faint smirks on his lips. "She was some kind of vampire fanatic. There's quite a few of those, I've learned."

I scowled at him, wiping at my mouth with a cloth napkin. "If you're implying that I'm one of them, I can show you a very good place to stick my shoe."

"And would that place be my ass?"

"Damn straight."

He let out a stream of honest, happy chuckles before sobering up again and fixing me with a serious glance. I froze, staring at him, and a rush of color flooded my cheeks.

There he went again, taking me by surprise every other second and turning all of my preconceived notions on their head. I never knew how to react during these times- these rare, honest moments of his when he let all of the masks drop and told me the truth.

"If I had known that she was married, I wouldn't have touched her with a ten-foot pole," Damon confessed, still not moving his eyes from mine. "Especially if I had known what her husband would turn into."

Both of us glanced over at Alaric at the exact same time. He had moved away from Jenna and was standing by himself, watching us. He didn't even try to look away once we caught him, only saluted us with his beer and glared.

Alaric didn't like me. I knew that. He probably didn't understand how someone like me- someone like _us-_ (because he was just as much a hunter as I was) could be so close with someone like Damon. But we were similar, in other ways. Both of us determined to protect the only family we had left from the things that went bump in the night.

Damon and I glanced away at the same time. I shuddered, he smirked.

I glanced at him warily, hands reaching to my camera automatically for some source of comfort. "Do you really think Isobel is Elena's birth-mom?" I asked cautiously.

Damon nodded automatically. "Without a doubt," he told me. "They have the same eyes- and that _fire_. God!" He paused and observed me. "How are you doing with that, by the way?"

I froze again. That had come out of nowhere. _Damon Salvatore_ wanted to know how _I _was feeling about something. Wasn't he allergic to conversations like these?

"I don't know," I said simply, because I didn't. "She's still my sister, and I love her and all, but..." I searched the room for Elena, frowning when I couldn't find her. "I don't know," I said again. "I don't know about a lot of things these days."

We didn't get to keep talking after that. Damon had to get onstage for the bachelor auction (he had the stupidest, shit-eating grin on his face the entire time, and I kind of wanted to punch him), and I had to take pictures, and before we could get another chance to talk, I was outside with Elena, and both of us were crying as we watched a man jump in front of a truck and commit suicide.

"Oh my God!" I screamed.

Elena stood, petrified, but the cell phone in her hands slipped from between her fingers and fell to the sidewalk with a clatter. She had just gotten a call from Isobel.

Her birth-mom.

Who wanted her to stop looking.

"Sidney!" a voice shrieked. I turned to see Bonnie striding over to us, a horrified look on her face, and I knew what she was seeing: The bloodied body of the man who had given Elena the cell phone.

"Bonnie," I breathed, barely registering her fingers as they flitted across my shoulders and my face, searching for an injury that wasn't there. "Bonnie, I..."

"Sidney?" another voice called. This one was deeper, more business-like, and I wasn't surprised when Stefan marched over to me, eyes widening when they took in Elena. "What happened-"

"I'll explain later," I huffed, blinking hard to dislodge some of the shock. "What's wrong?"

Stefan's eyes flitted back to me uncertainly. "It's Jeremy," he divulged, and my heart stopped. "You need to come with me. _Now_."

"Take care of Elena," I threw at Bonnie over my shoulder, and the next thing I knew, Stefan had grabbed hold of my wrist and was dragging me into the Grille at an almost in-human pace.

"What's wrong with Jeremy?" I demanded as we fought through the mostly-drunk crowd, my hands already flying to the slender stake tucked into my boot.

"There's nothing wrong with him yet," Stefan told me in a dark tone. "It's who he's hanging out with. Has he told you anything about a girl named Anna?"

"Yes," I answered immediately, mind flying to a conversation we'd had over nachos a week ago. "He met her at the library, and she wants to date him. She's home schooled and he thinks she's kind of annoying."

"Well, she's also a vampire," Stefan told me. "Damon and I knew her back when we were human."

"Well shit," I mumbled, because that just about summed it up.

We had reached the back of the restaurant, and Stefan glanced around furtively before pushing open the door to the kitchen and slipping over to the fridge, me following along behind him. When we got to the freezer, it was to see Damon standing over a dazed Jeremy, two distinct bite-marks on my little brother's neck.

"What happened?" I demanded, flying over to Jeremy and trying to stop the bleeding with my hands.

"_Anna_ happened," Damon snarled, and I just now noticed the quickly-healing scratches on his cheek. "The minute I saw her she dragged Jeremy back here and attacked both of us. She ran off when you and Stefan got here."

"She was trying to distract us," Stefan murmured, "trying to get the three of us away from-"

"_Elena_," he and I gasped at the same time.

We took off running then, leaving Jeremy and Damon behind, both of us equally frantic at the idea that someone might want to hurt my little sister.

She and Bonnie were gone when we got there.

"Elena?" I screamed, hoping, _praying_ that maybe she and Bonnie had just wandered off to wait for me at the car. Or maybe they were inside or in the bathroom or- "Elena!"

She wasn't gone. She wasn't gone. She wasn't gone. _She wasn't-!_

"_ELENA!_"

"She's gone," Stefan muttered, this haunted look in his eyes that I _hated_. "They're gone, Sidney. Both of them."

"No, they aren't," I snapped. "Why would someone take them? _Why_? Whoever this Anna girl is, she has no reason to take Elena-"

"She has every reason to take Elena!" Stefan snarled at me. "I love her! You love her! She's Damon's friend-"

"She's Damon's nothing!" I shouted, because now I was angry. How dare he? How dare either of the Salvatores! They had no right to drag my family into this! No right to put my siblings in danger and rip my life to shreds and make me start feeling things for a man I didn't want to feel things for-

Familiar hands closed around my shoulders (so, so much like my nightmare), and I didn't realize I was crying until Damon had turned me around to face him, Jeremy hanging limply off of his arm, and then I started sobbing...

Elena and Bonnie were gone, and it was my fault.

"We need to get them out of here," I heard Damon mutter in the part of my mind that was still preoccupied with what was happening on that street. "I'll take them home. You try to find some kind of clue, or-"

Stefan nodded, and in the next second he had disappeared back into the Grille and Damon was easing Jeremy into the backseat of his car, then waiting for me to climb into the front after him.

I don't remember much of the ride home, or much of Damon getting Jeremy up to his bedroom. But the next thing I knew, the door was opening and I heard Jenna's voice, and almost reflexively, I was stumbling down the stairs and lying through my teeth: _"Jeremy's fine, just tired. He's already asleep, and Elena said she was staying over at Bonnie's tonight. I'll pick them both up on the way to school tomorrow."_

Jenna bought it without hesitation (after all, before the Salvatores, I'd never told her a lie before), but Alaric was there, standing on the front porch, and he stared at me with these eyes that told me he knew something was wrong.

All that was left to do was wait for Stefan to get back, and a few minutes passed in silence, Damon and I just sitting on my bed, not doing much of anything, not trying to pretend that everything was going to be okay.

Damon was the first one to break it this time.

"I never counted."

I looked up at him blankly. He was staring at my bedspread, frowning, and I chewed methodically on my bottom lip.

"What?"

"You asked me why I stopped counting," Damon continued, glancing up at me. "I never started. I never wanted to... I'm not sure if I ever _wanted_ to kill people, Siddie. I didn't make this choice by myself."

I didn't say anything, just nodded, but this was the closest I had ever felt to Damon, and a part of me was dying inside at the fact that the minute we got Katherine out of the tomb, I would probably never see him again.

"Where's the Grimoire?" I whispered. "You know where it is- I know you do- but you haven't told us yet. You don't- you don't completely trust me yet, and I _get that_, Damon, but..." I stared at him, and it was like we were the only people in the world right then. "Where is it?"

He inhaled shakily and stared out my window, and it was a while before he answered. "My father's grave," he finally whispered. "The son of a bitch would have had it buried with him when he died."

Neither of us said anything then, and silence reigned until Stefan came through my window with the truth: Anna had taken both Bonnie and Elena, and none of us knew what she was going to do with them.

* * *

That is, until she called Damon the next morning.

Her demands were simple: She wanted the crystal and the Grimoire. But more than that, she wanted _Damon _to give them to her. She told us in no uncertain terms that if Stefan, Alaric, Anastasia, Carson, or I were anywhere near the park at the exchange time, she would kill Bonnie and my sister.

We all knew the truth. Bonnie and Elena would die either way, but maybe we could buy them some time.

Katherine was going to be freed from the tomb tonight. Our time had run out, and it was now or never. My time with Damon would end after tonight.

This was the plan.

Damon would go to the exchange site that night and barter for Elena and Bonnie's lives. Anna didn't know that the crystal didn't work yet, which we thought we could use to our advantage. Meanwhile, Carson and Alaric would use the Gilbert Watch to find Elena and Bonnie and free them while Stefan and I went to Giuseppe Salvatore's grave and unearthed the Grimoire. Anastasia and Grammy Bennett would wait for us at the tomb, both of them having promised to help undo the spell.

Convincing Damon hadn't been easy, but somehow, we had done it.

My hands were shaking as Stefan and I dug up the grave, and not just from the cold. It was biting that night, and the coat and sweater I was wearing weren't nearly enough to keep it out. It resonated deep in my bones, especially when I realized how close we were to my parents' site. How close we were to the place where I had first met Damon.

"You don't like me," Stefan muttered as we dug, and I stared at him in shock for a minute before slowly shaking my head.

"It's not that I don't like you," I explained, "I just don't... trust you."

"Because I'm a vampire-"

"No," I told him, surprising myself with the vampire. "It's not because you're a vampire. It's because you have the power to break my sister's heart, and I'm not sure if she'd be able to handle that again."

"I would never-"

"I know you wouldn't," I interrupted him, leaning on my shovel for a break, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely speak. "Not on purpose, anyway."

Stefan surveyed me for a minute before nodding slowly and saying, "I understand. But you should know... I really do love your sister. And I'm going to do everything I can to keep her safe- to keep all of you safe."

And I believed him. And even though nothing had changed, really, I trusted him. He was good for Elena, and I couldn't protect her from everything.

But that didn't mean I was going to stop trying.

When we finally reached the coffin, Stefan was the one who opened it. I couldn't stomach the sight of the dead body. He reached in and wrenched the Grimoire away from his father's skeletal hands, and I gagged when I saw the dust and cobwebs and _parts _still clinging to it. Stefan frowned knowingly at me before brushing the muck aside and pulling the decaying papers apart.

"This is it," he murmured. "The Grimoire. We found it-"

"And now I'll be taking it."

It took me a minute to recognize the vampire standing behind us, but when I did, I was both confused and angry. Jake Layton, the bartender at the Grille and the boy Bonnie had been gushing about all week. He was the one working with Anna.

"Um, no," I muttered, letting the stake in my sleeve slip down and fall into my hand, "you won't be."

Jake rolled his eyes and gave me that grin of his that had caused every girl in my freshman class to fall at his feet. "Yes I will," he said. "Anna told me about you and Damon, Sidney. Why not give me the Grimoire? You don't _really _want Katherine out of that tomb, do you?"

"Don't try to do what you're doing right now," I snarled. "You aren't smart enough for it."

I lunged at him then, but he had been ready for it and tossed me over his shoulder with a simple movement. But before he could turn and finish me off, Stefan had grabbed the stake I had slipped into his hands when Jake first appeared and was shoving it through Jake's stomach, nailing him to Giuseppe's tomb stone.

"Let's go!" Stefan shouted at me.

He tugged me to my feet, the Grimoire tucked under his arm like a football, and we took off running through the graveyard. I could tell he was growing frustrated by my painstakingly human pace (no matter how hard I had trained to try and transcend those limitations) and eventually, I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Driving will take too long," I panted. "Go. Take the Grimoire and run. I can make it myself."

Stefan stared at me for a long second. We could both hear Jake's shrieks of displeasure as he tried to remove himself from the tomb stone. It wouldn't be long before he did.

"No," Stefan said simply, and with that, he slung me over his shoulder and took off running.

* * *

Damon, Elena, Bonnie, Carson, and Alaric beat us to the tomb. I let out something that was between a sob and a shout when I saw Elena, and we ran for each other at the same time, embracing in a mix of tears and dark hair and clumsy limbs and whispered "I thought I lost you"s. Damon rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was nervous, and his gaze followed Anastasia and the Bennetts as Stefan handed them the Grimoire and they began making preparations to break the spell.

Anastasia had drawn a pentagon onto the floor of the cave. I steered clear of it, watching from my seat on a boulder as my best friend lit torches at certain points of the star and burned herbs from a leather satchel slung over her shoulder, muttering under her breath softly the whole time. Elena was cuddled up next to me, the two of us trying to share some warmth, and Stefan loomed like a dark guardian angel a few yards away from us. I shot him a knowing, accepting look, and he grinned hesitantly at me.

Five minutes passed in tense silence before Grammy Bennett and Bonnie got to their feet and stood in the center of the pentagram. Anastasia sat at the point closest to the door of the tomb, a chipped porcelain bowl of water at one knee, and a tea cup of blood at the other. She looked nervous, her eyes flitting skittishly between Damon and Stefan and the tiny book in her lap. She was still scared of vampires, and I couldn't really blame her.

Alaric and Carson stood closest to the exit, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Neither of them were very happy about the situation, I could tell, but just like me, they couldn't look away.

The Bennetts began to chant.

I couldn't tell what language they were speaking in- maybe Swedish, maybe Gaelic, maybe Greek- but whatever it was, it sounded unearthly and sent unpleasant shocks through my veins.

And then the tomb began to open. It started with a shuddering, mind-numbing grating sound as the stone door moved away from its frame. Anastasia let out a squeak, nearly knocking over the blood and the water, before shuddering and settling back down nervously.

Elena tensed up next to me and I huddled closer to her, my eyes fixed on Damon, who smiled thinly at me and saluted me with the blood bag he had brought for Katherine. He knew just as well as I did that we would probably never see each other again after tonight.

"It's open," Grammy Bennett said softly. "Now or never, Mr. Salvatore."

Damon fixed her with a judging stare before nodding and muttering, "Thanks." In the next second he had disappeared into the tomb, and I released a long breath. Elena's hand drifted over to squeeze mine. She knew, too.

None of us were quite sure what to do for those brief, peaceful minutes, but of course, something went wrong after that.

It came in the form of Anna, who appeared at the entrance of the tomb with an enraged Jake standing behind her-

"Jeremy!" I screamed, leaping to my feet.

-and my little brother held hostage with Jake's fangs dangerously close to his bared neck.

"Sidney," he squeaked when he caught sight of me, "what-?"

"I'm getting into that tomb," Anna snarled at us, glaring heatedly at Carson and Alaric, both of whom had their stakes drawn. "And if I don't, little Gilbert here is going to die."

"You-" I began, but Grammy Bennett beat me to it.

"Let her through, Sidney," the old woman told me, and somehow, her scowl was the scariest of them all. "It'll be all right."

None of us had the faintest idea what she was talking about, but we let Anna through anyway, and she disappeared the same way Damon had. Stefan, Alaric, and Carson didn't hesitate, all three of them attacking Jake at the same time. I barely paid attention to them, my eyes fixed on Grammy Bennett.

"What did you mean 'everything will be all right'?" I demanded, that roiling place in my gut telling me that something was very, very wrong.

She sighed heavily and fixed me with an unreadable glance. "I said I would let Damon into the tomb, not that I would let him out."

My throat closed up. I could barely speak. "What do you mean?"

Bonnie was the one who answered this time, and she sounded so apologetic as she told me that I wanted to cry. "The only spell we took down was the one keeping anyone from entering, not the one keeping anyone from getting back out."

There wasn't any choice involved this time. There wasn't any hesitation. There wasn't any wondering. There wasn't any thought.

I ran. I ran straight after Damon and Anna into that tomb without any thought for whether or not I would be able to get back out.

I wasn't going to let Damon be trapped in there.


	17. One Night Stand

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 17: One Night Stand**

**WARNING: Please note that there is some extremely mature content in this chapter. Nothing ridiculously explicit, but if you have an issue with it, look for the *** that will mark the beginning and end of the rated-R section. Please enjoy, and leave a review if you can!**

* * *

The tomb was darker than I thought it would be.

It was so dark, in fact, that I couldn't see an inch in front of my face. I let my hands fall against the walls of the catacomb, wincing as they brushed over soft things and jagged things and things that just felt old and gross and wrong. There was a humming sound, too, so quiet it was almost imperceptible, but it was definitely there. The tomb throbbed with suppressed, _dark _power, and the feeling sent shivers down my spine.

"Damon?" I called, in a voice that was much too quiet. "Are you here?"

There was no reply.

The entrance tunnel seemed to go on for a very long time. It could have been hours and it could have been minutes, but as I jogged through the dark cave, time stretched for what felt like forever, and the only sounds were the smack of my boots against the stone floor, my heavy breathing, and the pounding of my heart.

I was terrified for Damon. What if I couldn't get him out?

I wasn't sure how it had happened, but he had become so,_ so_ important to me. I didn't know what I would do without what had become a constant presence from him. What would life be like without that gritty, realistic point of view of his that warmed me to the core and made me feel like no matter what life threw at me, I could take it?

I would be finding out very soon. Even if I did manage to get Damon out of the tomb, he would have Katherine with him. And I knew she wouldn't want me anywhere near him.

It hurt. I swallowed it down like bile rising in the back of my throat, and called out again, "Damon!"

There was someone standing behind me.

I wanted to assume, from the bottom of my heart, that it was Damon, but instinct told me better. The last time I had jumped to conclusions, I had been taken hostage by my sister's crazed, vampire stalker, and put her life at serious risk.

I wouldn't be making that mistake again anytime soon.

So instead, I whirled on the person behind me, slashing down and to the side with my stake. There was the hesitation that came when the tip met clothes and skin, and I heard the vampire hiss in pain. I had met my mark, but it was pitch black. I couldn't see a foot in front of me, and the vampire had the distinct advantage.

Its hands closed around my wrist, nails digging into my veins, drawing blood. It snapped me around, forcing my arm behind my back. My shoulder popped- I screamed, "_Damon!_"- and the stake fell from my grasp with a clatter.

"Come on, Gilbert," Anna's voice hissed into my ear. "Let's go meet my mother."

I fought as she dragged me, screaming and shouting. Damon was down here. He could help me. But any time I got too out of hand, Anna threw me forward, keeping her grasp on my hurt arm, and I felt the bones in my shoulder click against each other as she tugged me back. The pain of it kept me in check, but it made my screams even louder, too

Anna didn't know about the throwing knives Carson had tucked into my belt, and with any luck she wouldn't find out. They were my last resort.

I could feel a cold wind rushing at me to my right, and Anna jerked me into a cavern off of the main tunnel. There was a 'flick', and a burst of flame. The light made me wince, momentarily blinding me, and she threw me to the side to light torches around the cavern.

I landed with a yelp, something brittle and _old _beneath me.

The room was flooded with the eerie, unfriendly flames of a candle or a light bulb that hasn't been lit in a very long time, and I saw what had caught my fall.

The mummified body of a long-starved vampire.

I bit back a scream, teeth digging so deeply into my lip that it busted and gushed blood down my chin. I barely noticed as it dripped onto the mummy's chest, forcing myself to get up, choking back yet another shout as I accidentally placed weight on my injured shoulder.

Anna finally glanced at me. She was hunched over a woman's body, clothed in what might have passed for a dress a century ago, and I realized, startled, that she was brushing tears away. That she must have been around the same age as me when she was turned.

"Come here," she told me, brown eyes widening and mixing, like Damon's did sometimes.

The compulsion didn't work on me.

Her eyes flitted to the necklace I was wearing- a vervain blossom, crystallized in a drop of glass- and narrowed. Instead, she was by me in a flash, forcing me over to her mother and lowering her teeth to my neck-

She was ripped off of me in the next instant, and Damon was in front of me, forcing me behind his back, guarding me from Anna.

"_You don't touch her_!" he roared, eyes alight with unholy fury. This was the angriest I had ever seen him, and I was equal parts fascinated and disturbed.

Damon was a monster at this moment.

But he was a monster for me.

Anna stared at him, shock written clearly across her face. Her eyes flitted from him, to me, to the body of her mother, and-

_Mother. Mother brushing hair away from my face and laughing. Mother dancing around the kitchen with me as we baked cookies. Mother holding me while I cried furiously over Mason Lockwood's deception._

Anna was crying freely now, and her pain was my pain, and my heart went _tug_.

But I was terrified. Damon was snarling, and- and oh God. This was how he was in my nightmare. This was what he looked like when he staked Brandon Quinn through the heart. This must have been what he looked like when he attacked Vicki and all those other people.

"Please," Anna whispered then. "Please. Just let me take my mother. I promise I won't-"

"You-" Damon began.

"Here," I whispered, stepping out from around him. He reached out a hand to swipe me back, but I dodged him deftly, wincing when the movement jostled my snapped shoulder blade. Anna stared at me in amazement as I bent over her mother, reaching for a knife from my belt and, after a moment of hesitation, slicing through my palm.

It hurt the most. Anatomy class had taught me that's where the most nerve endings were. But it was also where the most blood was, and now, I watched as it leaked through the lines in my palm, lingering on my life line, before spilling across Anna's mother's face.

A clawed, desiccated hand shot up and fastened around my wrist. I swallowed a moan of pain as the old vampire lowered my bleeding palm to her mouth and sucked. It took what felt like a long time, and I knew Damon was losing patience almost as quickly as I was losing blood.

Not a second later, his arm was around my waist, supporting my weight, and he pulled me away from Anna and her mother, saying, "That's enough."

I hung limply in his arms, and the two of us watched, me with a kind of blank satisfaction, him with a simmering anger, as mother and daughter raced out of the tomb as fast as they could.

And then we were alone again.

Damon lowered me to the ground and began ripping at the hem of my thick black sweater, wrapping strips of fabric around my palm to staunch the bleeding and splinting my shoulder into place, eliciting a shriek of pain from me. The entire time he was muttering under his breath, cursing at me for being so reckless, but I wasn't paying attention.

There were two very important things I needed to say to him.

"Why didn't you come?" I whispered as he bit into his wrist. "I screamed for you over and over again, but you didn't come."

Damon stared at me, his own blood staining his lips, and then glanced down at the floor of the cavern.

"I was searching for Katherine," he admitted.

"Oh."

The word came out choked. I don't know why. It wasn't like him choosing Katherine over me was big news.

To keep from having to continue the conversation, Damon jammed his bleeding wrist into my mouth. I tried to back away, not wanting the risk that came with his blood, but he persisted, fisting a hand in my thick, dark waves and forcing me to keep still. His other hand went to my chin and dug his thumb just beneath my bleeding lips, prying them apart none-too-gently. He inserted the wound back into my mouth and stared at me with steely intensity until I began to drink.

Once he was satisfied, he removed his wrist and let his hands rest on my shoulders, making sure I didn't move until the vampire blood had done its job.

He cared. _He cared about me_.

I shook my head, urgency returning, and tried to get to my feet. Damon just glared at me and wrapped an arm around my waist, sitting me back down again like I was a problematic child. To him, I probably was. I landed in his lap this time with an "oof", and watched with wide eyes as he took in the bare skin of my stomach, revealed by the strips he had taken from my sweater.

His eyes lingered on the flesh there as goosebumps rose from the cold of the night and the cold of the tomb and the cold of his gaze. He took in the patterns dripping blood had made across my skin, and I shivered unintentionally. Damon shook his head and fastened the buttons of my coat, covering me.

"We need to move," I whispered then, voice sounding strange to my ears. "Grammy Bennett- she didn't take all of the spell off, Damon. We might be trapped in here."

Damon blinked sluggishly, not registering what I had said, and then his jaw tightened.

"That bitch," he cursed, pulling me up and setting off into the dark tunnel again, keeping me securely tucked into his side. "I knew she would try something like this."

"It-" I forced the words out around the thickness in my throat. "It's not her fault. She was worried about the tomb vampires getting out-"

"She thought I would go back on my word," Damon bit out. "She doesn't trust me-"

"She doesn't trust _vampires_." I pulled him to stop, staring at where I thought his eyes were in the impenetrable darkness. "And I don't blame her for not trusting you."

It took a few seconds, but he sniffed and then we were on the move again, checking every single cavern and ante chamber for some sign of Katherine, our anxiety growing every time we didn't find her. I could feel Damon's animalistic nature rising to the surface as nearly an hour passed with no sign of her. By the time we reached the last chamber and she wasn't there, he was nearly feral.

"She's not here," he growled, hand tightening around the blood bag. "_Why isn't she here_?"

"Damon-" I began.

"_Katherine!_"

He threw the blood bag. It hit the wall and burst, spraying its contents all over me, and I wanted to sob as I stared at him, at the sheer brokenness in his eyes.

But she wasn't there. Katherine wasn't there.

"Damon," I tried again. He was panting now in ragged breaths, eyes red and veins black, shoulders heaving up and down with the effort of existence. "We need to go."

"No," he growled.

"We need to-"

"No."

"We could get trapped in here-!"

"_I don't care_!" He fell to his knees, hands clenching at his dark hair. "She's gone, Sidney. I don't care anymore!"

_"She's the one who doesn't care_," I wanted to tell him. _"She wouldn't have made you turn if she cared. She would be in this tomb right now if she cared. She would have tried to find you if she cared._"

But I didn't say any of that. Instead, I sat with him as he sobbed, letting out loud, howling, gut-wrenching cries.

I still don't know how long we were in the tomb for, but it felt like an eternity as I sat there, knowing better than to try and touch him, as he mourned the loss of a woman who clearly hadn't given him the love he deserved.

When it was over, he was quiet, and I could feel the numbness coming off of him as I helped him to his feet and led him through the darkness blindly.

* * *

Somehow we made it out. I'll never be able to understand the intricate laws of magic, or the way Anastasia and the Bennets kept the spell down long enough for us to get through, but somehow they did it. Later, Elena told me about Grammy Bennett almost fading from too much exertion, and about the terror they felt that night as they waited for her to wake up, and then the relief when she did the next morning.

The most terrifying moment of the night though, she told me later, was when I walked out of the tomb doors covered from head to toe in blood.

"It's not mine," I told her quickly, noticing the scream about to rise to her lips. "It's not my blood."

_"It's _mostly_ not my blood_," I amended in my mind, but she didn't need to know that.

We all split up. It was late, and there would be time for "thank you"s and explanations later, but for now, we all wanted to get the hell away from that damned tomb. Anastasia and Elena escorted Bonnie and her Grams back to the Bennett house, and Carson and Alaric parted ways, Carson offering to take Jeremy home and explain things to him.

I made to follow, knowing he would need one of his sisters there with him, but Elena stopped me.

"Go," she murmured, cocking her head pointedly at Damon. "He's going to need you tonight, Sidney. I can take care of Jeremy."

I nodded gratefully, and, mindful of Stefan's concerned gaze on me, led Damon carefully out of the cave. He walked silently by my side as I tugged him through the forest, shivering even in my thick winter coat, and Stefan appeared next to us in a flash once we had reached the road. He offered me his jacket with a quirk of his eyebrows, but I shook my head demurely, and that was the only interaction between the three of us as we walked silently to the Boarding House.

It was long, but not awkward, and I winced anytime I thought of Damon, of his pain- and I thought of nothing _but _Damon.

He didn't make a sound when we reached the Boarding House, and I deposited him securely onto one of the leather couches, him reaching instantly for the glass bottle of brandy and holding it in his lap, staring at it, not moving to take a sip. Stefan hesitated at the top of the stairs, but nodded when I stared at him, and disappeared for the night.

I took my seat next to Damon and waited.

It was a long time before he said anything.

"Katherine..." He swallowed thickly and leaned over, burying his face in his hands. "She was never trapped in the tomb, was she?"

I shook my head, and then, realizing he couldn't see me, said, "No, I don't think so."

"Then- then is she-" He shook his head and straightened. "She's not dead. They didn't kill her. She's too smart for that."

He didn't ask it, but we both knew he wanted to.

_"So why didn't she come for me?"_

I answered anyway.

"I don't know. Maybe she knew she didn't deserve you."

Damon's jaw tightened, and I heard the _click_. I had overstepped my bounds, I knew I had- Katherine was the one subject we always intentionally avoided- and I knew, maybe he would finally kill me. Maybe the rage and the disappointment and the despair and the failure-

Damon splayed his long, cold fingers across my cheeks tentatively, like I was made of spun glass. He cradled my face in his hands, taking me in, eyes raking across the blood and the freckles and the too-wide, too-bright green eyes. He leaned in, hesitated...

...and then he was kissing me.

It wasn't anything like I had ever felt before. It was tentative, his lips quivering where they touched mine, while my mouth was completely unresponsive beneath his. I was too much in shock. It had come out of nowhere. But it felt... _nice_.

There was this warmth to it. This undeniable need from both of us. I felt like I could taste his sorrow, could drink it in and soothe some of it with my touch. My eyes hadn't closed when he kissed me, but Damon's were screwed tightly shut, waiting for me to reject him and everything he was offering me.

Fearfully, I closed my eyes and raised shaky hands to his chest, pushing him lightly back from me until there was at least a little distance between our lips.

"Damon," I breathed, "I can't."

I had always thought our relationship was so simple. But it wasn't now. There were a million, unnameable strings attached, and, not for the first time, I wondered if it could be-

_No. No Sidney. Not like this_.

With a deep, sustaining breath, I rose from the couch and turned to the door-

He grabbed my wrist.

"Siddie," he pleaded. "I need you."

Those three words were my undoing.

In an instant I was back in front of him, kneeling before him on the couch, hands clenched, unsure, in his dark, luxurious mane of hair. And he was _staring _at me with those fathomless, gun smoke and icicle eyes.

I leaned in, letting my forehead rest against his, and the feeling of his warm breath on my top lip made me sigh in want and sadness.

"Damon," I moaned. And it was more a song, a prayer than anything else.

We were united in that moment, both of us knowing that I had made my choice- that both of us had.

He needed healing, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for him, even though I knew this night would kill me slowly. Maybe in the morning we could pretend that this never happened, but we would both know, and it would change things between us irrevocably.

But then again, since when had the two of us ever been normal?

**MATURE CONTENT**

Our lips met again. His hands were already at the lapel of my coat, and he ripped it. I barely paid attention when I heard the buttons pop and scatter across the hardwood floors. His lips were on mine, tongue stroking my mouth, tasting the blood I had drawn with my teeth, and then- Oh God. He was sucking and nibbling and _tasting-_

Damon's hands were cold and calloused and utterly sinful as they eased the ripped coat over my shoulders, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of my skin anywhere he touched it.

Next came what was left of my sweater, gone in a rip of fabric, and I suddenly felt shy, practically straddling him in nothing but a black bra, jeans, and a pair of boots.

Damon didn't hesitate for a second, didn't even stop to stare. His mouth immediately left mine, tongue skimming across my chin and neck, lapping up the blood that had dried there. A jolt went straight through me to my core at the sensation, and I tugged harshly where my hands were still wrapped in his hair.

He paused at the hollow of my throat, smelling the point where the most blood passed through, and my breath caught. Would he-?

He kissed the skin there, mouth open, almost worshipful, and skimmed his lips back up to my ear where he whispered, "Not tonight."

_"Some other time," _was an understanding, a promise between the two of us, even if we didn't know if this would be the last time or not.

Instead, Damon's head went to the valley of my breasts and he resumed his activities, hooking my legs around his waist.

In the next moment we were up the stairs and on his bed, and he was easing my jeans and boots off my legs, hands caressing thighs and feet and calves and-

"_Oh_!"

The sound came out of me unwarranted, and my back arched incredibly high off of the mattress.

Damon had unclasped my bra on the trip from the couch to the bed without me noticing, and it disappeared somewhere across the bedroom. And then-

Then he had taken a nipple into his mouth at the same time as he had inserted his fingers inside of me.

Something else took over us after that. I can't describe to you what I felt that night. It was like steel covered in velvet, like dying a thousand times and being reborn over and over and over again. Like I was the stars, and he was the night sky, and I was drowning in him.

He murmured things as he lost himself in me. Things from his life with Katherine and Stefan. Things about how he didn't like to kill, how that _other_ part took over sometimes. Things about how he wanted to flip the switch sometimes. He was gentle with me when he did, fingers dancing across my sides and waist and the inside of my thighs like he was playing piano, and I was an all too willing instrument.

And he screamed _her_ name sometimes. (_"Why did you leave me? Why wasn't I good enough for you?"_) And he was rough then, flipping positions, thrusting into me, arching my throat and heaving breasts up to him with a tug to my hair and depositing angry, hot kisses to my neck.

It was then when my hands would fist into the silk sheets so hard they ripped, then when I would burn with the depth of my attachment to this man and the fury I felt for Katherine and his father and everyone else who had harmed him in the past.

**MATURE CONTENT**

Damon was beautiful- beautifully flawed.

I didn't fix him that night- not by a long shot. But I think maybe I started the process, and that was enough for me. If I could affect him at all, even if it was just in the smallest way, then I was content.

Maybe Anastasia was right. Maybe I really did love Damon.

When we were both done, when we had both released more times then I could count, when the sun began to appear in the bedroom windows- Only then did Damon collapse against me, head falling into the junction between my shoulder and neck.

Something hot and wet splashed against me, and I realized, startled, that Damon was crying.

He whispered her name in the quiet hours after dawn when we both began to drift, and I swear even now that it was like a knife to my heart.

"Katherine."


	18. Afterglow

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 18: Afterglow**

**WARNING: Mildly explicit content. Dubious consent if you squint. It's basically just a really detailed description of them making out. It will be marked.**

When I woke up the next morning, I didn't feel regret.

Instead, I felt fragile- like a tea cup that had been dropped on the floor and cracked. Like there were lines running all through me and if I was set down too hard or picked up too quickly I would burst and shatter all over the place. There was this dull ache between my legs, and I felt cold and hollow and itchy from all of the blood still coating my skin.

I decided I needed a shower, and so I got out of the bed. Damon was still asleep, sprawled out across it, sheets twisted between his legs, and I had to wiggle out of his arms to get to the bathroom.

He didn't notice, just turned over, hugged one of his pillows, and kept snoring.

I frowned at the action. It seemed like an important one, but then again, maybe I was just over romanticizing the hell out of things. I tended to do that a lot.

I'd only ever been over to the Boarding House three times, but all three times I had been unable to figure out how the hell Damon's shower worked. It was one of those really complicated ones with a detachable sprayer and two different knobs and nothing to mark which side was hot and which side was cold. It took me a good half an hour to figure out, and when I did, it was by pure accident. I doubted I would be able to do it again.

The only soap available was Damon's. It smelled expensive- like sandalwood, vanilla, and something heady and musky- but I used it liberally anyways. It was his fault I was covered in blood and God only knew what else. Damon could deal with it as far as I was concerned.

He was still asleep when I emerged almost an hour later, wrapped securely in a plush black towel with my rapidly-curling brown hair piled on top of my head. I dried off quickly and hunted for something to wear.

My sweater and coat were both destroyed, but my bra wasn't, so I put that on as well as one of Damon's black t-shirts. It was probably outrageously expensive, but as I said before, it was his fault I was in this situation in the first place so he could deal with it again. My panties were ripped to shreds, and I frowned at them as I held them in my hand. They had been nice. Victoria's Secret.

Fucking Damon.

My jeans were still in tact so I slid those on, as well as my ankle socks and brown boots.

Damon was still passed out in bed, and as he was my ride home and I knew Stefan had probably left to be with Elena, I was going to be stuck at the Boarding House for a while. So, I figured I might as well make breakfast.

For two vampires who- as far as I could tell- didn't need to eat much, the Salvatores sure knew how to stock a fridge. There were ingredients for pancakes so I pulled them out and started mixing after unraveling the mystery that was their coffee machine and brewing a pot. And as I cooked, I considered Damon and what had happened between us the night before.

There was no way around it.

We had fucked.

It wasn't sex, it wasn't making love or hooking up or any other such nonsense. It was fucking, plain and simple fucking.

And I had liked it.

Hell, I had loved it.

Even if we had both been crying- pouring our emotions into each other- even if I had felt irrevocable pain over the things I wanted that he couldn't give me and the things he wanted that I wouldn't let myself give him. Even if I couldn't say what I felt for him now, when we weren't connected like that. Even if I couldn't admit to myself, even then, what I felt for him.

Damon had needed me last night, and on a lesser level, I had needed him, too.

It was a nice feeling. Being needed.

But where did that leave the two of us? Before last night we had been sort-of-kind-of best friends/ maybe a little more than friends. I mean, yeah, we were attracted to each other- I had seen the looks Damon had given me, and I was positive he had seen some of mine, too. But would that friendship end because we had had sex?

I got my answer a few seconds later in the form of a cold nose snuffling at my neck and Damon's voice purring in my ear, "You smell like me. I like it."

I startled away from him with a small shriek before scowling and swatting his bare chest with the spatula I was using to flip pancakes. "Don't _do _that!" I told him, flushed, goose bumps still prickling my skin. "I would have staked you just then if I had one."

Damon just rolled his eyes before taking a seat on a bar stool, observing as I puttered around the kitchen, fixing breakfast. "No you wouldn't have. You love me too much."

The _l-word_ made me pause, but I shook my head and scowled again, muttering, "Do not", before scooping up a pancake and sliding it onto a plate and over to him.

"Do too," Damon replied, mouth full.

I watched him while waiting for my own to cook, glad that what had transpired last night hadn't seemed to change our relationship all too much, even if he was being more touchy-feely than usual.

"So, how are you doing?" I asked eventually, softening, and then immediately hating myself for it because _God that was a stupid question. He just found out the love of his life left him two hundred years ago. How do you think_ _he's doing, Sidney?_

Damon just snorted around the forkful of pancake in his mouth. I took that as a "not good", and resumed cleaning off the pan and mixing bowl I had used.

"You know what I need to do?" Damon asked as I set the newly-washed dishes on the drying rack. "Get really, really drunk."

And so we did.

It was no secret that Damon kept a lot of alcohol in the Boarding House, but I was still a little shocked by the sheer amount of whiskey decanters that he managed to pull out of seemingly nowhere. That shock disappeared quickly though, drowned by the torrent of alcohol I was pouring down my throat. I'd wanted to go slow- wanted to hold off the alcoholism that had followed after the funeral- but Damon wasn't having it. He was in pain and trying to drink it off, and as his partner in crime by default, it was my duty to get rip-roaringly intoxicated right along with him.

I didn't like whiskey, I decided almost four hours later. Not even the expensive brand Damon drank. I knew why- because Jack Daniels was whiskey and that had been my dad's favorite before he died and that had been what had almost killed me after his funeral.

The whiskey was potent though, and it dragged me into oblivion very quickly. I was a witty, sarcastic, mean drunk. I had accidentally made Elena or Anastasia cry at parties more than once- number one hundred and forty seven on Sidney's List of Reasons Why Alcohol Sucks. But then again, Damon was even worse than I was.

He was an even bigger asshole than usual when intoxicated, which was saying something, but he wasn't _my _asshole. Not the _lovable _kind of asshole, if that makes sense. He didn't want to talk about Katherine- changed the subject any time he thought I was about to bring her up. He was doing that _thing, _again. That thing I hated, when he tried to pretend like nothing was wrong and like he didn't feel anything and that he had flipped the switch on his humanity even though I knew he _hadn't_.

I was staring at the fire, drunk out of mind, considering Damon Salvatore, when he tried it again.

**MILDLY EXPLICIT CONTENT**

Cold fingers stroked my bony shoulders beneath his shirt, and I felt them slowly tease their way beneath the strap of my bra. "_Sidney_," a voice purred in my ear, and I tensed.

The voice from my nightmare. The frozen, snowy, dead one. Katherine's Damon. Not mine.

Another hand splayed out across my stomach, pulling me into Damon's chest, and it felt like my joints locked into place, gears rusting and stalling. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. My fingers twitched, and the predator nosed his way up the expanse of my neck.

"Beautiful," Damon hummed, pressing a kiss to the spot where my jaw met my throat beneath my ear. "Your blood smells beautiful, Siddie."

"D-Damon," I stuttered. Despite the whiskey, my mouth was dry. "St-st-_ah_..."

He licked me.

It was quick, his tongue as cold as his heart, but the action sent an electric jolt through my heart either way. I jumped in his grasp and twirled back to face him. Damon's eyes were hungry, mixing the way he did when he was trying to compel someone. He leaned in and took my bottom lip between his teeth. I hadn't realized I was biting it, and I whimpered at the action.

Damon played with the appendage for a bit, nibbling on it, tracing it with his tongue. He sucked on it, kissing me but not quite, and then leaned back before delving in completely and capturing both lips in a hungry movement.

"Siddie," he mumbled into my mouth, "do you know how crazy you make me sometimes? I can barely stop myself when you bite your lip... How about I do it for you from now on?"

"You-" I tried, leaning back from the kiss unsuccessfully. His mouth followed mine. "You're... Damon, you're drunk-"

"And you talk too much," he growled, and the next thing I knew, I was splayed out across the couch, legs parted, and he was between them, already reaching for the hem of the shirt I was wearing so he could shred it.

**END OF MILDLY EXPLICIT CONTENT**

Something panged in my heart and I jerked up into a sitting position. "Stop," I muttered. Damon just grinned and reached for the shirt again. I smacked his hand away. "_I said, _stop!"

The panic in my voice made him pause. Damon stared at me for a long second, sobriety returning to the tortured, gun metal and ice eyes for a moment, and then he slowly eased off of me. "Siddie..."

"Just-" I had to choke down a lump in my throat. "Just stop, Damon," I whispered, and if he wasn't a vampire I doubted he would have been able to hear me. "I'm not Katherine and I never will be, so just _stop it_!"

I had said it.

I had finally said it.

Despite the fire, the room felt dark.

I got to my feet, tears brimming, and started toward the door. "I'm going home."

"I'll drive you-"

"You're drunk!"

"I'm a vampire-"

"I don't want to be around you right now, Damon."

He stopped again, staring at me, and then said, "Oh."

And there was nothing else to really say. I didn't look at him as I exited the Boarding House, didn't want to think about what had transpired between the two of us. I knew, suddenly, what it felt like to be Damon Salvatore in that moment. To be so terrified of your own feelings that you had to hide from them, had to be cold like ice and hard like stone.

* * *

Just my luck it had decided to snow that day, right? I was pretty sure God hated me as I started the long trudge home, shivering without a coat (_horny vampires, I swear_). It would actually make sense, though, for God to hate me, when I looked at the shit storm my life had turned into over the past four months, courtesy of the Salvatore brothers.

"Hey." A shiny black Escalade pulled up next to me, and when I stared up at the driver's window, it was to see Stefan staring down at me. Speak of the devil. "You look like you could use a ride."

I considered saying no, just because I was pissed at the Salvatores and felt like being a brat, but at the same time, I was also really, really cold.

So I climbed in.

The heater was a welcome relief. I felt the tension in my back dissolve the moment I was seated, like I was stepping into a hot bath after a long day of practice. It was nice, but only for a moment. Stefan ruined that moments later by talking.

"So," he began, keeping his eyes fixed awkwardly on the road in front of him, "you slept with Damon." I choked on my own spit. "Do you, uh- do you want to talk about it?"

"No," I squeaked out, trying not to die from the sheer awfulness and embarrassment of this entire situation. "Not really, Stefan. No."

He looked at me and frowned, that same insistent, caring look in his eyes that I saw in Anastasia's sometimes. "You know," he pressed, "sometimes talking about it can help."

I bit my lip, considering him, on the verge of tears again, before shaking my head and pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes with a long sigh. "I don't know, Stefan," I mumbled in a garbled, choked voice. "He's just so damn _complicated, _and I-!"

"And you thought sleeping with him would change things?"

I snapped my head up, staring at him, nostrils flaring and tears beginning to carve their way down my flushed cheeks.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Stefan insisted. He was turned completely toward me, the car stopped beneath us on the snowy highway. "You thought sleeping with him would make him forget about Katherine, and now you're upset that it didn't."

I kind of wanted to stake Stefan right about then.

Mostly because he was right, but also because I hated that _Stefan, _of all the people on the damn planet, had to be the one to tell me what I had been feeling all along.

I loved Damon Salvatore.

I wasn't quite sure if I was _in love _with him yet, but I knew I had the potential to be.

And I hated the person he turned into under Katherine's influence, and I wanted to be the one to save him from that. But I couldn't be, and the knowledge of that fact was killing me. The only person who could save Damon was Damon.

Stefan watched my realization with that quiet concern of his, and I felt a sudden warmth for the vampire. He would be good for Elena. I trusted him with her.

"You're right," I admitted, sinking back into my leather seat, "but what am I supposed to do about it? I'm not Katherine." And I had to pause to wipe away another stray tear as it raced hotly down my frozen cheek. I sniffled. "I'm not who he wants, and all he does want out of me is sex..."

"Sidney," Stefan said a few moments later, "do you care about my brother?"

"Yes," I answered immediately, no hesitation needed. "Yes, I do. Stefan, you know I do."

He looked at me again before nodding and starting the car back up, eyebrows furrowed. "Alright," he said, almost like he was trying to convince himself. "Alright. Then you need to fight for him. You need to prove that you're there for him even if Katherine isn't. Sidney-" He glanced at me, dark eyes cutting through me. "I..."

I felt his desperation, sympathized with it. He was asking me to protect Damon with my presence, the same way I had asked him to protect Elena with his absence.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

But I nodded anyway, because I knew what I had to do.

I had to keep fighting.

* * *

Easier frikkin' said than done.

A week passed with little to no change in Damon's attitude. I was growing frustrated. If it hadn't been for Stefan's assurances that I was doing the right thing and Anastasia's unwavering support, I might have given up.

"Well, if it isn't the head of the Buzz Kill Squad."

Damon, in a word, was not pleased with my efforts.

I flinched visibly at his harsh words but shouldered past him into the Boarding House anyways, a Tupperware of turkey sandwiches (his favorite, I had learned at Thanksgiving) in my hands. "Yup," I quipped, setting them down on the entrance table and then shedding my coat. "And she's here to get the stick back up your ass- Oh my God, what is that smell?"

For lack of better example, the entire place bore the scent of sweat, sex, bad alcohol, and piss.

I walked into the living room and got my answer.

"What the hell did you do, Damon?" I demanded. "Have a blood orgy?"

Apparently, he had. There were women _everywhere_. Blondes, redheads, black girls, Asian girls, curvy girls, stick-thin ones- Every kind of girl, I realized suddenly, but brown-haired, willowy ones.

"Yes," Damon answered gruffly, ignoring his trysts as they began to stir, clutching hands to sore, bleeding necks. He sat himself down in his favorite arm chair and started nursing a cup of brandy. "You can leave now."

Whether that was aimed at me or his girls, I couldn't tell. But either way, I didn't care. I wasn't going anywhere, and I told him as much.

"Fine. Stay. I don't care." He lifted his head up and stared at me, eyes clouded with alcohol but still managing to glint lasciviously at me. "But if you're going to stay, you could lose the clothes and give me a little show-"

I bit my lip so hard it started to bleed and chucked a decanter of whiskey at his head. He dodged it deftly and it shattered into pieces against the mantle.

"Fuck you, Damon," I grit out, before turning on my heel and stomping out, following the line of his highly-confused victims.

"Good riddance!" I heard him yell at my back as I left through the front door, letting it slam behind me.

* * *

"I take it things didn't go well?" Anastasia said softly a few minutes later as I stood on her front step, trying not to cry.

"No." I sniffled and bit my lip, brushing snow off of my shoulders. "Can I come in?"

"Of course!" Anastasia said, throwing the door open and letting me past her. She shut it just as quickly and took my coat, folding it neatly and setting it on a nearby chair. "Go curl up on the couch," she told me with a frown, concern for me staring through her blue eyes. "I'll make hot chocolate."

A few minutes later we were both on the couch, me tucked completely and securely beneath the heavy red blanket I used every time I came to her house like this. I was covered from head to toe, and emerged only to retrieve my hot chocolate. Anastasia had put whipped cream and cinnamon on it, just the way I liked. I let myself start to cry as I sipped, and Anastasia rubbed my back soothingly through the cover.

I didn't like for people to see me upset like this- not even her. She was the only one I let myself be around like this.

A while passed and I finally started sobbing, Anastasia's constant rubbing at my back the only thing keeping me grounded. I paused momentarily after finishing my hot chocolate to place the cup back on the coffee table, but then started sobbing again soon after. Around six o'clock, I quieted.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Anastasia whispered.

I startled- that was the first sound either of us had made in a while. With a scowl I emerged from beneath the blanket, glaring at her despite the chocolate mustache on my lip, my frizzy hair, the lopsided blue hat on my head, and the puffiness of my still-leaking eyes.

"No!" I wailed. "I want coffee and donuts!"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Anastasia had driven me to my favorite coffee shop- Sunday's With Suzy- and purchased a variety box of my favorite donuts. I was chewing contentedly on a maple bacon bar, still frowning, but not crying anymore.

Anastasia surveyed me with a frown over the rim of her chai tea latte. "The way you eat donuts is so weird," she commented, probably sensing that I really, really didn't want to talk about Damon. "It's kind of like a chipmunk nibbling on an acorn or something."

I glared at her, mouth comically full, and snapped, "Shut up", waving my half-eaten doughnut at her accusingly.

She just smiled a little, although she tried to hide it by taking a sip of her drink. "It's cute," was all she said, and then we went quiet again.

I knew I was acting like a child, but I tended to when I was really, really upset about something. And Damon... Damon was one of a very few list of things that had the power to affect me like this. I was a little embarrassed by the way I was acting, but glad I had someone like Anastasia to turn to when I was angry and sad. She was a good friend now, better than she used to be. But then again, I was a good deal better now, too.

I guessed we had the Salvatores to thank for that.

The bell over the front door rang, though I didn't pay much attention to it until Keeley Saltzman was sliding into the seat across from me. Anastasia and I both stared at her in shock, and she colored before saying lamely, "Hi."

"Er..." I swallowed down a bite of cheerio-covered doughnut, nearly choking, and then chugged half of my mocha in one go, the heat of the drink taking away some of the pain. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, actually," Keeley answered, shifting, visibly uncomfortable. "I kind of sort of need to really seriously talk to you about something."

I stared at her, more than a little confused with the way she talked- so eager to get everything out that her words collided and tripped over each other. Anastasia sat up suddenly, eyes widening, and wiped at her glasses. The steam from her drink had clouded them.

"Is this about...?" she began, and Keeley nodded her head rapidly. Anastasia frowned at her, the expression not looking right on her usually-serene face. "Keeley," she began, "I don't think now is really the right time for this-"

"The right time for what?" I asked, impatient for Keeley to ask me whatever it was she wanted to ask me so she could go away and I could continue my pity party in relative peace.

"Well, you see," Keeley began in the most roundabout way possible, and I kind of wanted to smack her with my doughnut and tell her to get on with it. "So we're kind of doing _Dracula: the Musical _next semester and I'm choreographing and Anastasia is music director and Caroline is going to be Lucy but we don't really have a Mina yet and Anastasia mentioned you could sing so will you please do it, pretty please?"

I blinked at her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Because, really? Really?

_Dracula: the Musical_?

I didn't even know that was a thing!

And why, oh God, _why _would Anastasia tell people I could sing? That was supposed to be our secret! I didn't sing in front of people as a general rule, and I couldn't dance to save my life. Also, I was a horrible liar, which I thought translated to me being a horrible actress as well. I was the actual worst person to play the role of Mina Harker, and I told them as much.

"It's really not much of a dance-y role," Keeley assured me, looking eager. "The most you'll have to do is move to a different part of the stage at the right time and sing out to the audience. And you're enough like Mina in the first place to where you wouldn't have to act all that much."

I bit my lip at her. Did she know about the vampire-slaying thing, or was she just saying that because she thought my _personality _was like Mina Harker's?

"She's got a point, Sid," Anastasia admitted. I glared at her, thinking _whose side are you on?_ "You're a lot like Mina is described as in the books- with the diary writing and the loyalty and all."

The _vampire-killing/ fucking_ went unsaid, but I saw it in her eyes.

"No," I said anyways. A leading role in the school play was the last thing I needed on my plate right now, what with Damon's fucked-up-ed-ness, my sister's issues, the town's vampire infestation, soccer season coming up, and also, you know, _college _and other such normal-person things.

"Please," Keeley begged, leaning forward and folding her hands underneath her chin. "Please, please, _please_!"

"No," I said again, more stubbornly this time, and took another bite out of my doughnut just to cement the point. "I'm a photographer, dammit, not a theater geek."

"Neither am I," Anastasia pointed out, "but I needed the community service hours, and besides, it looks really good on college applications to be involved in the Fine Arts."

I paused mid-bite. She had me there, and by the slight smile on her face, she knew it, too. My Wake Forest application had been rejected, and I had been wait-listed for Clemson, too. The only school left in my top three was New York University, and I had been too scared to send it in yet, paranoid from my past two experiences. Maybe a leading role in a musical would help my chances?

Scowling, I picked a cheerio off the top of my doughnut and flicked it at Anastasia. It landed right in the center of her forehead and she let out a little whining sound before frantically trying to bat it off. I turned to Keeley, expression blank. She looked at me with wide eyes, like she was worried I was going to throw one at her, too.

"Fine," I told her. "I'll do it."

Keeley's shoulders sunk and she let out an audible sigh of relief. "Oh good," she murmured. "The only other person we could think of was Kelly Leach, and she hates me." She gifted me with a vibrant grin before springing out of her seat, tugging resolutely on the sleeves of her shirt. She leaned over and gave me a hard hug, then pulled away just as quickly. "Thank you!" she chirped at me before bouncing out the door just as quickly as she had come through it.

I stared after her for a few moments. "I swear," I muttered, putting down the remains of my doughnut and wiping sticky fingers on my jeans, "that girl gives me whip lash."

Anastasia scowled accusingly at me, rubbing at her forehead with a napkin. The skin had turned red from the force of her scrubs. "I hate you," she stated petulantly. "I bet you anything I'll have a gigantic zit in like five minutes."

I rolled my eyes before grinning slightly and collecting my coat as the two of us rose from the table, her having already paid when she ordered for us. "Thanks," I told her as we walked to the door. "You always know how to cheer me up."

Anastasia just flushed and shook her head. "It was nothing. You would have done the same thing for me."

That took me by surprise, a little bit, because I would have, I realized, and I probably wouldn't have before all this started.

My stomach shifted painfully at the reminder of Damon and the royal mess the two of us had gotten ourselves into, and I huffed angrily, pulling my hat down to my eyebrows and kicking unhappily at the pavement of the sidewalk. Stupid too-attractive, asshole vampire.

Speaking of which-

There was a distinctive cry from the alleyway next to Suzy's, and Anastasia and I shared a sideways glance before springing into action. I slid a stake out of my purse and Anastasia pulled one of her potions out of her pocket. I was oddly looking forward to seeing what this one would do. The effects were always delightfully gruesome (notice the sarcasm).

The two of us crept carefully to the entrance of the alley in time to see a distraught Keeley pinned to the wall with a shorter Hispanic man and a tall, statuesque woman with strikingly pale skin.

Anastasia and I didn't wait much longer.

I went for the woman. She was so distracted, fangs latched onto Keeley's quivering jugular, that the kill was an easy one, and my stake speared her through her abdomen without much resistance. The vampire screeched, releasing Keeley, and then turned on me, swiping clawed fingers through the air. One of them sliced at my cheek, drawing blood, but crumpled and turned to dust before it could do much more than that.

The man, the one Anastasia was trying to throw a potion at, snapped his head up, sniffing the air, and then fixed his eyes on me. He swatted Anastasia aside a second later (I winced at the _crack_ing sound her head made against the side of the restaurant), and the next thing I knew, I was pinned to the wall by my neck.

He tsked when I tried to stake him, disarming me easily and then pinning my wrists above my head. I held back a shudder when his nose skimmed my cheek and the scratch there, and then bit down a scream when he lapped at my blood.

"You're a Gilbert," he hissed into my ear. "I'd hoped your family would have disappeared in the past two centuries, but alas..."

This next scream I couldn't hold back. He had shoved my own stake into my belly, just between my hip and my pelvis, and I felt something inside of me snap and then coil back. Something was wrong- _seriously, seriously wrong_\- but I couldn't think beyond the pain of it all to figure out what it was.

The world dissolved into black patches and colored spots, and the last thing I heard before sinking under completely were four words that had me crying out in fear.

"Let's have some fun."

* * *

**A/N: Well, I really hope you enjoyed that! I'm so sorry for the long wait (especially after that last chapter- yeesh, I'm horrible), but senior year and unfortunate car crashes kind of got in the way of writing for a while. But I am back and here to stay, and I sincerely hope that this chapter makes up for it! In honor of all of your lovely reviews and favorites and follows, I have decide to completely devote the month of April (and probably some of May) to the completion of this story. Leave a review if you feel like it, and stay tuned for the next chapter! It'll be coming out hopefully within the next two days or so!**

_**Next time: **__Sidney suffers at the hands of the newly-released tomb vamps, Keeley learns the truth about monsters and her parents, Anastasia confronts her fears of vampires to save her best friend, and Damon must come to terms with Katherine's betrayal and his feelings for Sidney to get her out alive..._


	19. Pain

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 19: Pain**

**WARNING: While most of what Sidney goes through happens off screen, there may be mentions of things that could be triggering, and her clothes are going to be removed without her consent. There will also be references to the female anatomy and reproductive system on a medical standpoint, if that is likely to bother you. Hope you enjoy!**

Keeley didn't know what to do.

Her first instinct was to panic, but she didn't think that would do any good because as far as she knew Sidney Gilbert had just been kidnapped by a vampire in front of her- and _holy shit, vampires are real-_ and Anastasia Graham may or may not have been dying across the alley way from her.

Keeley didn't exactly have a lot of _experience_ when it came to, you know, patching up the victims of vampire attacks, but she had taken a first aid class two years ago so she was pretty sure that Anastasia wasn't dead. _Y__et_. And then she started moving so Keeley kind of assumed that the other girl was still alive.

"Sidney?" Anastasia groaned, forcing herself to her feet, glasses shattered and blood trickling down her cheek from a wound on her hairline. "_Sidney_!"

Keeley had to choke the words out around a dry mouth and bite marks on her throat. "She's gone."

"Gone," Anastasia repeated. Her voice was very, very small, and it terrified Keeley. She had never seen Anastasia Graham anything less than calm, composed, and collected. This girl- all rumpled blond hair and teary blue eyes and that _horrified_ look on her face- This was not someone Keeley knew.

"The- the vam-" Keeley choked on the word and shook her head. "_They_," she supplied instead, "took her. The man said it was something about her being a Gilbert- Anastasia?" Keeley hated the way her voice cracked around the other girl's name. "What's happening?"

Anastasia looked at her, finally, although it was more like she was looking _through _her. The blonde squared her shoulders and got to her feet, extending a hand toward Keeley and saying, "Come on. We need to get Elena and the Salvatores. I'll tell you in the car."

As Anastasia's car pulled out of the lot, Keeley spied dark clouds gathering out the window.

* * *

The knowledge that monsters were real (and her dad _knew about them_), apparently, was enough to do the impossible and completely silence Keeley Saltzman. For how long, she wasn't sure, but for now she sat, stunned, on an armchair in the Gilbert living room as Elena and Mr. West screamed at each other.

"She is my _sister_!" Elena was yelling. "And your favorite student- _of course_ I'm going after her. And I thought you would want to, too."

"You're being absurd," Mr. West told her, jaw clenched. "Of course I'm going to save Sidney- but we need a plan, and you have no training. You can't be a part of this, Elena-"

"_I don't care_!"

"He has a point, 'Lena," Bonnie Bennett said from the loveseat. Her face was pale- and _Oh my God she's a witch_. "You'd get yourself killed, and you wouldn't be any help to Sidney then. Besides, we don't even know where they are. We need to calm down and work out a plan."

Elena took a deep breath, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hands. "Fine," she sniffled. "_Fine- _I..." She shook her head again. "Bonnie, Anastasia, can you find her?" At their nod, she slumped like a puppet with its strings cut, practically collapsing onto the couch. "Thank you- and does anyone know where the hell Stefan is?"

"With Sidney," a way, way too familiar voice answered. Keeley tensed as her father entered the room. "He was taken by the tomb vampires, too," Alaric stated, almost apathetically. "In the forest. I couldn't stop them."

"You're a hunter," Elena snapped, tears coming freely again. "It's your _job _to stop them."

Alaric just hung his head, offering nothing in defense of himself. Keeley made a choking noise, the first sound out of her since the alleyway.

"Dad," she whispered, his head snapping around to meet her and his eyes widening. "You knew about all of this?"

As father and daughter stared at each other, the first of the rain began to fall.

* * *

"Wake up, hunter."

The vampire from the alleyway was grinning at me when I came too. I spluttered, skin burning from the boiling hot water dripping off of my face. I assumed he had poured it on me to get me up, probably hoping that I would scream in pain. I held it in, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

He didn't like that.

I knew because he immediately proceeded to deck me across the face, and there was a _snap _when his fist collided with me. Something felt unhinged- almost as bad as the something very, very wrong in the general area of my pelvis. The difference between the pains was that I actually knew what was wrong this time. He had just broken my cheek bone. I realized, almost crying as I did, that this vampire had probably just disfigured me for life.

I scowled at him. The action made my face hurt even more than it already did. "Why am I here?" I bit out.

He grinned at me, seeming to chose his words very carefully. My eyes flickered around the room, taking in dark roof beams, dusty floors, the tomb vampires watching me, some of them vengeful, others almost uncomfortable with my presence. And-

"Stefan," I breathed. What was he doing here?

"You two know each other," said the vampire who I thought might have been the leader, the one who had taken me here. "Now why does that not surprise me?"

"I don't know," I stated, knowing I was toeing a dangerous line, eyes flashing up at him. "Why doesn't it?"

There was this hot, pinching sensation right where my left shoulder met my collarbone. Too late, I looked down, confused to see one of my own hunting knives sticking out of me. Then I realized.

He was using my own weapons against me.

The horror of my situation had my stomach curdling around the stake still impaled in me (and something was wrong- something was _really, really wrong with me_), and I think some of what I was feeling showed on my face, because the vampire smiled at me.

"Oh," he said, "I can see myself having a lot of fun with you, Gilbert."

As the torture began, I could hear thunder crashing outside.

* * *

The night had passed, and they still didn't know where Sidney and Stefan were.

Keeley had stormed out of the Gilbert house shortly after Alaric had finally fessed up about Isobel, Damon, Elena and Keeley being half-sisters, and his dallying in the world of hunters. Anastasia probably should have been worried, but then again, Keeley had texted her at around midnight to say that she would be staying at Caroline's house for the foreseeable future. Also, Anastasia had more important things to be worried about.

Like Sidney.

She was being tortured. Anastasia _knew she was being tortured_, and she was terrified for her best friend. The tomb vampires had every reason to hate the Gilberts, Anastasia knew. Stefan had told them enough about the tomb vampires' past for her to be sure of it.

Which was another thing. Stefan.

It wasn't that Anastasia _hated_ the Salvatores. Stefan had always been very polite and considerate to her, and she appreciated how confident Damon made Sidney sometimes. It was just that Anastasia was scared of them.

It was the vampire thing. Because of Andrew and because of her father's biggest client- _Mr. Mikaelson_\- all cold blue eyes and too-smooth British accent. Anastasia had never much liked being around vampires in general, hadn't liked the way their eyes automatically fixated on her neck or the way they talked to her father, but after being attacked by the one her boyfriend had become...

She was terrified of them now.

But now Stefan and Sidney needed her, and yes, she knew that most of what she was going through right now was Stefan's fault, and yes, she knew that Sidney might be dying or already dead.

But Anastasia thought she might know of a way to find out where they were, and she wasn't going to let her fears get in the way of that.

Damon would know. Anastasia couldn't say how she knew it- in the same sense that she couldn't say when she knew how to sub out wolfs bane for aconite or rosemary and sage for bachelor's buttons- but she did.

Elena was passed out on the couch. She had fallen asleep mid-sob, and now her head was lying on Bonnie's lap as the witch stroked her head, flipping through one of the grimoires Anastasia had brought for a stronger searching spell. Alaric and Carson were conversing in the kitchen in hushed, tense tones. Anastasia was surprised that Alaric hadn't gone after Keeley yet. She didn't know either of them very well, but from what she had seen, they were close. Jenna and Jeremy were both upstairs, presumably asleep. Elena had managed to stop her tears long enough to explain away the odd gathering with some kind of school project/ organizational meeting, although Jeremy, who was reasonably well-versed on the vampire situation, hadn't bought the excuse for a minute and they all knew it.

No one was paying much attention to Anastasia, and with the storm raging outside, no one would expect for her to venture out of the house. Which, she thought, might have been why none of them noticed when she slipped out and started the drive to the Boarding House.

Winds buffeted her the moment she stepped out of her car. It was nearing three in the morning, and the storm was stronger than ever. Anastasia shivered, drawing her blush-colored coat tighter around her chest.

The Boarding House looked scarier than she remembered it being. She had only been there once before, when her house was being aerated and the Gilberts were out of town. The man who had run it, Zach Salvatore, had been nice enough to Anastasia and her father. She wondered what had happened to him. No one had seen him in town for a few months.

God, she hoped he wasn't dead.

Feeling sufficiently bitter, and a bit bold because of said bitterness, Anastasia tramped up the steps to the front door, squelching in the combat boots she had borrowed from Sidney last spring, and rapped on the knocker. There was no answer. Usually, Anastasia never would have entered someone's home without permission- she was a bit like a vampire in that respect, she supposed- but this was Sidney and Sidney was in trouble so Anastasia didn't care. She went in anyways.

"H-Hello?" She hated the way her voice cracked in fear. "Damon? Are you here?"

He was in front of her in an instant. Sloshed out of his mind, evident in the way he swayed back and forth while doing nothing but standing and the half-full glass of something obviously alcoholic in his hand- but at least he was in front of her.

"Well, well, well," Damon slurred. "Come to join the party, Sabrina?"

"It's Anastasia," she corrected, the reference rubbing her the wrong way. "And I'm not a teenage witch- I'm an alchemist. Also, it's not a party if you're sitting around your house drinking alone."

Damon scowled at her and Anastasia felt that familiar, crippling fear in the pit of her stomach. The fear that had kept her paralyzed and silent as Andrew attacked her. Her hand automatically inched toward the pocket of her coat, where she kept her emergencies-only skin-melting potion. She didn't like that one. The smell of sizzling flesh wasn't exactly an appetizing one.

Damon blinked, swaying precariously, and pointed his index finger at her. "Touche. Why are you here?" When she tugged on a lock of blonde hair, he narrowed his eyes at her. "You're kinda jumpy, ain't ya?"

Now it was Anastasia's turn to blink, and she did, confused, feeling the blood rushing through her veins all the more keenly. She wondered if Damon could hear how hard her heart was pounding. "I-I guess so..." She shook her head. "Look, Sidney needs-"

"Oh, _great_." Damon was back in the living room somehow, draped over one of the couches and swigging out of a crystal decanter of whiskey. Anastasia followed him with more than a little bit of trepidation. "Could the Buzz Kill Queen not show up tonight? Did she decide to send you?"

"That's just it," Anastasia told him, latching onto the topic and running with it. "Sidney's gone."

"Gone?" Damon frowned at the word, lower lip trembling, and Anastasia realized something very suddenly.

He had been looking forward to Sidney coming to see him.

"Gone," Anastasia repeated, the knowledge that this vampire cared for her best friend- at least a little bit- making her braver. "She's been taken by the tomb vampires. Her and Stefan."

Damon was staring at her again, the bottle paused halfway to his lips and spilling expensive-looking amber liquid down the front of his already soiled black t-shirt. A minute ticked by on the grandfather clock next to the staircase. Then two. Slowly, hands visibly shaking, Damon brought the decanter back to his lips and kept drinking.

"Why should I care?" he asked once he had finished, more to himself than to Anastasia. "Let them die. Won't make a difference to me."

"Yes it will," Anastasia insisted, almost on the verge of tears. "It will make a difference to you because you care about them."

She let out a scream then. Damon had thrown the decanter against the fireplace, and it shattered into a million shards of crystal. One of them flashed by Anastasia's face, leaving a dripping, bloody line on her cheek. Damon was before her in a second, staring down at the cut with dangerous eyes.

"_No I don't_," he snarled.

But Anastasia refused to be cowed this time- Any other time, yes. But not when it came to Sidney. Not ever when it came to Sidney.

"_Yes_," she shot right back, "_you do_." And when Damon looked like he was going to deny it again, she kept talking over him. "How could you not? Stefan is your brother. And you need Sidney! Don't think the rest of us haven't seen how you look at her. And don't you dare say that you don't care about her, because we all know that's bullshit. She's impossible not to care about. She's loving and brave and smart and loyal, and she's refused to give up on you even when you've given up on yourself."

That one really seemed to hit hard. Damon shrunk back like he had been slapped- although he kind of had, proverbially, Anastasia thought- but she wasn't done yet. That cruel voice in the back of her head was urging her on, making her want her words to really, really hurt. And not for the first time, she listened to it.

"Do you know what Sidney's been going through because of you?" Anastasia pushed, lips curling savagely. "She comes back from here crying almost every day. You _hurt her_ almost every day. But she keeps coming to try and save you."

Anastasia huffed softly, finally looking away from Damon and starting toward the door. "Sidney saw something in you worth saving," Anastasia continued, frowning, realizing that the same logic applied to herself. "She saw something in you worth caring about. If you want to return the favor, I'll be at the Gilbert house. Come find me when you've gotten over yourself."

And as she let the door to the Boarding House slam shut behind her, lightning flashed.

* * *

I could taste my own blood.

That wasn't a good sign, I knew. It probably meant that I had internal bleeding. But I was in too much pain to really contemplate that fact at the moment, too busy trying to breathe around the hunting knives lodged in between each and every single one of my ribs and the stake still wedged into my groin.

And there was still something wrong with me- well, now there were a _lot _of things wrong with me. But there was something especially wrong with me that had been caused by that stake.

"Sidney."

Stefan. I had nearly forgotten he was there, and in almost as much pain as I was. He was suspended from the ceiling with thick, scratchy ropes soaked in vervain, a steady stream of the stuff dripping onto his head continuously. He had been screaming, earlier, when the vampires had been- Well, when they had been paying attention to me.

They had left a few minutes ago, I thought. I didn't care. They would be back, I knew, but I was glad for the respite.

Realizing Stefan had called my name again, I hummed a response, my head in too much pain to even think about talking right now. One of the vampires had taken the liberty of giving me a haircut. He had sawed off almost two feet from my head, and the rough movements from the knife he had used still stung at my scalp. The reminder made tears prick in the corner of my eyes.

That had been the most painful thing done to me the entire day (or had it been two? A week? I couldn't tell). I had been growing out my hair since I was ten, and I was quite proud of the length- all russet-brown waves to the small of my back. It hung at around my shoulders now, in choppy, uneven locks. I wanted to start crying, but somewhere, deep inside me, I still had a smidgen of pride left.

"Sidney," Stefan choked out for the third time, finally making me look at him, "we're going to get out of this. I promise."

But that was a promise he couldn't keep, and we both knew it. We wouldn't be able to save ourselves this time, and while I had every faith in my sister and my friends (maybe not Damon. _Definitely _not Damon), we had no idea where we were being held. For all I knew, we could have been in Timbuktu.

I just nodded, in too much pain to do much else, and went back to waiting.

As it turned out, I didn't have to wait for long.

The door to the room we were being held in opened with an ear-splitting shriek, and a black vampire I recognized from when I first woke up entered. I saw a steely look of intensity drop down around Stefan's eyes and he tensed, readying himself for whatever was in store for us next. I was too tired to move, in too much pain to even be conscious of it, but I felt my body ready itself for more strain.

The vampire moved over to me quickly- too quickly for my eyes to catch without considerable training and effort. To my surprise, he knelt down and immediately started to try and untie me from the chair I was strapped down to. His hands fluttered around the stake in my pelvis nervously.

"That's bad, ma'am," he said in the same kind of deep, Southern drawl my dad used have. "Here." The vampire, much to my confusion, immediately bit into his wrist before forcing the bleeding wound into my mouth.

My head immediately felt clearer and wounds hurt a little less. I stared at him in confusion. "W-Why?" I managed to croak out, that one word taking considerable effort to form. It felt like months since I'd had any water.

The vampire just shook his head. "It'll keep you alive, ma'am," he told me simply. "If you'll forgive my saying so, you don't look like you'll be able to survive this much longer. Ain't right what they're doing to the two of you. Ya'll didn't have nothin' to do with what happened back then."

If I could have smiled at him, I would have. "_What's your name?_" I tried to ask, but it came out more like: "Wurr-haaa..." My throat couldn't support that many syllables at once. "Name?" I creaked out instead.

"Harper," he said with a slight blush- I hadn't even known vampires _could_ blush. "At your service, Miss Gilbert, Mister Stefan."

"_Harper_!" Stefan declared suddenly, voice full of realization. "I know you! We grew up together!" To me, he said, "Harper was a... Well, he was a slave in Mystic Falls when Damon and I were human- one of the few around. The Fells were the only ones who..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It's good to see you, Harper- circumstances not abounding."

Harper seemed to flinch at the _s_-word. I decided that if we ever did get out of here, I wouldn't mention it again unless he brought it up. It was easy to forget, sometimes, what the town used to be like. Easy to forget that the more prosperous Founding Families- the Fells, the Lockwoods- had been built off the labor of those in bondage.

I sighed once free of the ropes, health slowly returning to me. I summoned up the courage to smile at Harper. "_Thank you_," I tried to say, but it wouldn't come out. He seemed to understand what I was saying, though, and grinned before helping me to my feet.

"Ain't no trouble, Miss Gilbert," he told me. "Let's go on about getting you out of here, now."

We didn't get very far.

It felt like the moment I had been bodily lifted out of that damn chair, the door slammed open again and I was being ripped out of Harper's arms.

"Well now," the vampire holding my slumping form crowed, "thought you could be the hero, huh, Harper?" And then there was pain again- _Oh GOD so much pain-!_

The vampire was twisting the stake in my pelvis. I felt it catch on something inside of me and- _tear_-!

I let out my first cry of pain.

The vampires stilled at the sound, stopping their beating-up of Harper, and stared at me. The leader's lips slowly curled into a sinister smile, and I suddenly felt very, very scared.

"Now," he whispered, growing closer to me, "ain't that a pretty sound?"

As thunder crashed outside, my continued screams joined the cacophony.

* * *

"And you're sure this is where they're keeping them?"

Anastasia Graham was nervous. Damon could tell. She was all jumpy and twitchy and... weird. Weirder than normal, which was saying something for the witch- alchemist- _whatever the fuck she was_. As long as it didn't involve Damon's ass being electrocuted (fucking Bennets) or his face fried off (fucking Grahams), he didn't care.

"Yes, Sabrina-"

"_Anastasia-_"

"-Whatever. If they were going to keep Sidney and my brother anywhere, it would be here," Damon divulged, feeling more than a little strange talking to the skittish blonde one-on-one without her trying to kill him or vice versa. "Pearl and Anna told me this is where the tomb vamps were staying a while ago." He cleared his throat, wondering, a bit, if he were still drunk, and then fixed her with a glare.

"Listen up," he mumbled, "when they open that door, I'm killing whoever gets in my way. You stay behind me and fry the dicks off of anyone who gets near you. We grab Siddie and my brother, and then we get out. Kapeesh?"

"Kaposh," Anastasia muttered back darkly. She decided she didn't like Damon very much. Of course, this wasn't exactly _news _to her, but at least she was certain of it now.

Without further discussion, Damon kicked the door to the farmhouse with the heel of his boot until it swung open and a disgruntled vampire glared out at them. His eyes widened when he saw Damon, and then he grinned.

"Salvatore," the vampire acknowledged. "Come to get your brother?"

"And Sidney!" Anastasia piped up before Damon could decapitate the man. Both of them glared at her and she flushed.

"Whatever," Damon muttered before reaching for the other vampire, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, and ripping his heart out. "Let's go, Sabrina- the fuck?"

He couldn't get through the door. The other vampire had been halfway over the threshold when Damon grabbed him, so no problem there, but he couldn't get through the door and- _shit is that Siddie screaming-_?

"Damon," an oily voice called from the foyer of the farm house. Damon's teeth grit together. It was Robert, the same asshole he remembered from all those years ago. Of fucking course it was. "Having some issues there, my friend?"

"Fuck off," Damon snarled. He would have smacked the smirk off of Robert's face if he could have. _Smirking was his thing._"Give me Sidney and my brother, and maybe I'll kill you quicker."

Robert snorted at him- _snorted at him. _

"I'd like to see you try," he said. "Because from what I can see, you haven't been invited in, hasn't he, Mrs. Neswood?"

"Hmm?" a dazed woman's voice replied. Anastasia's eyes widened when she saw the old lady walk up to Robert's side, wrinkled, paper-like skin covered in bite marks.

Robert grinned at Damon before leaning over and whispering something in Mrs. Neswood's ear that was too low for Anastasia's ears. Damon could hear it though, apparently, and he stiffened at it just as the door was slammed shut in their faces. Another scream broke the constant patter of the rain storm- and _Sidney, Sidney, Sidney_\- and Damon roared.

He rushed at the door, Anastasia leaping out of his way with a yelp. There was a great clash and the door shattered under the weight of his fist, wood splintering and flying in every direction. Anastasia tried to duck but was hit with one across her cheek. It left a line of blood. She ignored it.

Damon stared at the wreckage for a moment, shaking, before whirling on Anastasia, eyes mixing and nostrils flaring.

"We're going to get them out," he told her. "We are _going_ to _get them out_."

And as he stomped back to the car, and as her best friend's screams rent the sky, Anastasia believed him.

* * *

"So, are you ready to explain why you'll be staying here for the foreseeable future?"

Keeley froze midway through a bite of strawberry ice cream, her favorite, and glanced over at Caroline. They were sitting on the blonde's couch, binge-watching Audrey Hepburn movies and eating their weight in dessert. Keeley was thankful for how accepting Caroline and her mom had been about the whole let-me-live-with-you thing she had going on, but she figured she kind of owed them an explanation.

Thing is, she couldn't exactly tell her about vampires.

Wait. Could she?

Keeley shook her head and set down her bowl of ice cream. "I-er..." _How the hell do I talk to other actual human beings? _"My dad... He's been keeping things from me," Keeley summed up simply, because no, she decided, she could not tell Caroline about vampires. "Stuff about my mom. She- she's alive- kind of. And he didn't tell me."

Caroline winced in commiseration before pulling Keeley into a quick hug. "I'm sorry, Keels," she said. "I understand the dad thing- trust me."

Keeley just nodded, feeling more than a little awkward, robotically squirting whipped cream onto both of their ice creams. "How?" she asked, just for something to say.

"Well, my dad left my mom for another man when I was twelve."

"Well shit," Keeley said, because that just about summed it up. "I'm sorry."

Caroline nodded, frowning down at her hands. "Yeah. Me too."

As silence fell, the storm stopped.

* * *

"So your big, huge plan," Damon said at three in the morning as they all gathered in the Boarding House, "is to smoke them out like vampire bunnies?"

Anastasia glared at him from where she sat, perched uncertainly on the edge of one of the leather ottomans around the living room, a grimoire opened on her lap. Bonnie sat behind her, staring at the page over her shoulder and tugging at her hair in frustration. This particular grimoire was written in French, probably by one of Anastasia's Cajun relatives. Elena and Jeremy (who had promptly pitched a fit when they finally told him what was going on with Sidney) were side by side on the L-shaped couch. Alaric and Carson were on either side of the door, as if they were guarding it.

Anastasia opened her mouth, as if to tell Damon that he was wrong, but sighed and changed her mind. "Right," she said, "whatever. Like vampire bunnies. The _point _is that it'll get them out of the house-"

"Where Carson and I will be waiting to pick them off," Alaric finished. "I think we've got it by now, thanks."

Anastasia nodded. She was still nervous about the whole situation- _and Sidney was still- _don't think about it, _don't think about it-_

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Right," she said. "_Right_. We'll be fine."

In reality, she didn't _know _if they would be fine, because most of this plan hinged on her being able to get in, and her being able to _not die_, and for Sidney to _not be dead, _and for Damon to find _some way _to get _inside _of the house despite the fact that Mrs. Neswood had been _specifically compelled _to _not let him in_-

Anastasia took a deep breath, reeling herself back in. "Right," she said, one last time.

But as the storm clouds grew heavier and heavier, just before more rain began to fall, they all knew the truth: Nothing was right. And if they failed, nothing would ever be right again.

* * *

An hour later, as Anastasia was planting vervain-gas bombs along the inside perimeter of the farmhouse, all she could wonder was why Elena Gilbert was crouched down against the wall in front of her. In fact, if she could remember correctly, she was pretty sure that Damon had _specifically told _Elena not to come. So the question remained: Why was Elena here?

Anastasia would have asked her if it weren't for the fact that the tomb vampires would hear her and then she- and Elena, and Bonnie, and Sidney, and Stefan, and Damon, and Alaric, and Carson, _and literally fucking everyone_\- would probably die. So she just kind of squinted at Elena and raised an eyebrow. Elena just shrugged and shook her head, reaching for one of the smoke bombs and sidling down along the wall to attach it to the line.

So. Elena was helping. That's nice. Anastasia was probably going to be murdered for condoning this once Sidney heard about it-

If Sidney was even alive, that is.

That thought managed to get Anastasia back on track, and despite the fact that she was pretty sure she and Elena were both going to get caught and die (and Bonnie, who was planting the bombs all along the second story of the house), they somehow managed to get the trap set and make it to the back door unseen. They _would _have made it through, and everything _would _have gone semi-along-the-plan, if Elena hadn't heard someone groan from down the staircase that presumably led to the basement and decided to run down it as fast as she could. With little other choice, Anastasia followed her.

What they found in the cellar made her want to throw up.

It was Stefan, only... burnt. His skin had been peeled back and singed on his shoulders, forehead, scalp, and all up and down his bare chest. Anastasia could see bone and muscle and meat in the burns, and the skin around it was black and yellowed and dripping with pus and blood.

Elena let out a choked little sob and rushed over to him, fingers scuttling along the ropes suspending him in the air, trying to untie them. Tears were running freely down her face and she kept murmuring something to Stefan that Anastasia couldn't quite hear. Whatever it was, it made Stefan look even more pained.

"You shouldn't be here," he muttered. "I dreamed you would come, but-"

Elena just shook her head, sobbing now, choking on her tears, and put a finger to his lips. Anastasia felt like she was witnessing something far too intimate for intruders, and turned. There was another man there, secured to a chair with wooden stakes through his thighs.

Anastasia blanched and rushed at him, tugging them out without further ado. She didn't know who this vampire was, but she assumed he had been trying to help Stefan and Sidney. Why else would the tomb vampires have hurt him like this?

"Thank you, ma'am," the vampire rasped at her, struggling to get to his feet. "The name's Harper."

"Anastasia," she whispered back. She saw Elena hoist Stefan onto her shoulder out of the corner of her eye. "Where's Sidney?"

Harper flinched. "I can't say I know, Miss Anastasia," he told her apologetically. "The others took her upstairs when I tried to rescue her and Mister Stefan. She's been screaming an awful lot though, I'm afraid."

Anastasia and Elena both blanched at that, but there was no time. They had already lost time- time that could have been spent getting Sidney _the hell out of here_\- and Damon and the others were waiting for her signal so they could get in and she could set off the trap and they could kill the vampires and-

She shook her head.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered.

And as they stumbled out of the farmhouse and the trap was set, the darkness and chill in the air threatened to render them completely helpless.

* * *

I hurt. My scalp hurt, my pelvis hurt, my chest hurt. Everything hurt. And it didn't stop hurting no matter how much I cried and begged and- _Oh God, please stop hurting me._

Currently, I was being used for "target practice". I had been dragged into a small closet somewhere on what I assumed was the main floor. My clothes were ripped off of me. I had tried to protest but was too weak to really do much. Then, they had dangled me above the floor by my wrists and started throwing the knives Carson always tucked into my belt anywhere they saw bare skin on me.

I was too tired to scream anymore, in too much pain to cry. My tears were dry, my mind hazy. All I could think about was the rhythmic _thunk _of the knives sinking into my chest and how sore my wrists were.

And Damon. I thought about Damon a lot. I remember that much.

And then suddenly, there was noise from outside of the closet. I wasn't sure if my vision was just blurring or not, but a sort of green haze filled the air. The vampire who had been watching me choked on the gas, skin burning, and shrieked. I'd have thrown up at the sight if there had been anything in my stomach.

The vampire jumped to his feet, scrabbling over to the door, and tore at it with his nails. He ripped through, leaving long indents in the wood, and when the door splintered and fell to pieces, I thought I was dreaming.

Damon was there.

And he was smiling, only it was his _I'm-going-to-fucking-rip-your-face-off _smile that I remembered hating but right now I really loved because it meant that I was saved.

He didn't say a word, just decapitated the other vampire with a quick flick of his wrist, and in the next moment, he was at my side. I think I let out a sob when he cut me down from the ropes, because I was just so, so tired.

And then he caught me, and his arms were warm and strong and I was safe and nothing else mattered.

And as we stumbled out of the farmhouse, the torrents of rain seemed to wash away the pain, and I lost consciousness once again.

* * *

I couldn't have children anymore.

I don't think there's any better way for me to put it, and I'm not going to sugar coat things. The stake had torn open my womb when it had landed inside of me, and pierced my Fallopian tubes, eliminating my body's ability to carry sperm to the eggs inside of me. When the stake had been twisted, it caught on my uterus and ripped it.

I would never be able to have children. I would never get my period again. I would never be pregnant. I would never be able to play Santa for my children. I would never be able to hold my baby for the first time. I would never get to wonder if the kid would be a boy or a girl or if it would have my eyes or its' father's. I would never send my kid to school for the first time or get to see it graduate from college. I would never be able to make Elena godmother or to have our children grow up together and be best friends.

I had never much liked kids, had never much thought of myself as a prospective mother, but now that the choice had been taken away from me completely, I knew what decision I would have made.

I wanted children. I wanted children, and now I would never be able to have them.

Sacrifices are made. They have to be, at times like these, to survive. To be able to fight another day and to protect the people you care about. But this hurt. This hurt more than anything that I had experienced during my time with the vampires, and I would go through that pain a thousand times just for the chance to see my son or daughter smile for the first time.

In that moment, I hated Damon Salvatore for what he had done. Hated him for not being able to let Katherine go. Because maybe if he had, I wouldn't have learned about vampires. Maybe if he had, the tomb vampires wouldn't have been unleashed. Maybe if he had, I wouldn't have lost my hair. Maybe if he had, I wouldn't have been stripped of everything that made me a woman. Maybe if he had, I wouldn't have lost my children before they were even conceived.

So yeah. I hated Damon Salvatore, but I loved him all the same.

Maybe that's why, when he visited me in the hospital the night after the doctor told me the full extent of my injuries, I immediately proceeded to burst into tears and smack my fists against his chest repeatedly as he held me, whispering, "I hate you", over and over and over again.

He shushed me, and if I didn't know any better, I would have thought for sure that I felt tears dripping on the top of my head where his face was pressed into it.

"I know," he told me. "But I don't think you understand just how much I care about you."

And as he held me, the storm finally came to an end, and all was quiet.

**A/N: Hey, so I'm not one-hundred-percent certain that all of the medical terminology used in this chapter is completely true, seeing as I have never taken an anatomy course in my life, nor am I a doctor. I'm just a dumb high school senior/ theater geek. Also, I'm sorry that this chapter took a bit longer than promised. It ended up being a lot longer than I expected it to be. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review down below if you feel so inclined!**


	20. Frequently Asked Questions and a Poll!

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**

**Frequently Asked Questions and a Poll**

Okay, so yes, chapter 20 is on its way, but I'm taking a bit of a writing break to celebrate, you know, graduating high school and everything, so it's going to take a little longer than you're used to. Sorry about that. However, the months of July and August will be dedicated to completing _The Damsel in Distress Diaries. _(Hint, hint, we've only got about five or six chapters left before the end of this installment of the series.)

Aright, so, on to why you need to be reading this exceptionally long Author's Note. If you want, you can skip to the end of this and just check the last question (it will be in all caps) for the information you really need to be reading this for. It's about Keeley's character and what you would prefer to happen at the end of this series. So, yeah, let's get right into it!

**Are Elena and Sidney twin doppelgangers?**

No! God- _frick no! _I really, really frikkin' hate that fan fiction trope. I mean, no offense to anyone who likes that story line, but I've never seen it done well before. Then again, I haven't read that many fics with that story line in it because I hate it so freaking much and I tend to stop reading when I see it begin to happen.

**Would you ever write a fic right that?**

You can't tell but I just sighed really, really deeply when I read that.

Yes, I would actually write a fic like that. I actually have an _idea _for a fic like that, much as I hate to say it. I mean, _The Damsel in Distress Diaries _originally started out as a writing exercise for me to take a trope that I hated (Elena's sister OC) and turn it into something I would actually read, and we all know how that turned out. So yes, it very well could happen.

**When will Sidney get a piece of the action?**

So, this is actually a question I have gotten more times than I can count, and I'm still not completely sure what this means. Is it sex-action, or vampire-slaying action? Because she's already gotten quite a bit of both, but there's definitely more to come.

As far as vampire-slaying action goes, this fic is called _The Damsel in Distress Diaries_ for a reason. It's meant to focus on Sidney during a period in her life where she is helpless, and where she has to rely on two brothers she really doesn't know much about to protect her and her family. It also focuses on Sidney deciding that she is sick and tired of being helpless, and that she wants to learn how to defend herself and the people she cares about. She needs to reach a certain breaking point (spoilers, she's reaching it next chapter) before she completely embraces her Hunter's nature and starts kicking some major ass. Even then, the majority of her bad-ass-ery happens in the next installment of the series and the sequel to this book, _The Slayer Diaries._

**But the sex?**

Yes, there is going to be more sex, just not in this book. There will be more in _The Slayer Diaries._

**What's going to happen with Sidney's soccer career?**

Isn't that a good question? Basically, you can assume that after all of her vampire-induced injuries, she's down for the count for games this season. I'm sure you can tell that's going to be a harsh blow for her. Of course she's going to remain friends with Sutter and Madison and co., but I'm not sure if I'm going to be putting her back on the team once the next season begins. To be honest, that's around the time Klaus comes to town, so I'm not really sure if she'll have the _time _for it. Whatever happens, though, you can definitely assume that Sidney will be going through a lot of mental trauma because the author who created her is a sadist.

**What's Sidney's reaction to the doppelganger deal going to be?**

Bad. Basically she's going to try to stake Klaus anytime she sees him because like hell she's letting him sacrifice her little sister. Also, she's going to get very pissed anytime Elena tries to martyr herself. I'm not going to spoil anything here, but hint hint, she and Damon will be having a lot more in common than usual in the next installment when it comes to Elena and her personal freedoms. Elena won't be very happy with her sister toward the end of _The Slayer Diaries._

**So are Sidney and Stefan like BFF's now, or something?**

Yeah, no. Sidney respects Stefan as a person and trusts him with her sister, but that's about as far as her opinion of him goes. I mean, how do you feel about your kind-of-boyfriend's younger brother? Sidney likes Stefan, sure, but she's not going to sacrifice herself for him or risk Elena's safety to save him.

**You've mentioned that Sidney has a sort of sixth-sense a few times. What's that all about?**

It's like Spidey-senses only with vampire slayers. Slayers don't have magical powers, exactly, but they are very perceptive. No, Sidney is not a witch or a psychic or anything like that. She's just very intuitive and very, very clever.

**So Sidney's been kind of angsty and annoying lately with all the Damon drama. Is that going to end anytime soon?**

Yes, thank God. I hate writing angst. It's so annoying. I really don't want Sidney's entire character to be rooted in her relationship with Damon, but it needed time to develop. Their relationship isn't exactly a healthy one. They're completely dependent on each other, which is definitely, definitely not good. We all know how manipulative and possessive Damon can be, and Sidney is just completely oblivious and not very confident in herself. Not the best combination, but they can be very good for each other at times. The angst is far from over (it's going to be popping up quite a bit in the rest of the series. I mean, duh, it's _Vampire Diaries._ No shit it's going to have angst), but Sidney being all swooney and annoying and Elena-like is over. Thank God.

**Is Keeley Elena's sister?**

Half-sister. No, she is not Elena's twin. If the two of them looked exactly alike I would have told you. You can bet Sidney would have noticed it. So yes, Keeley is Isobel's daughter, but Alaric is definitely her father. Basically, Keeley was conceived before they got married, Damon changed Isobel when Keeley was five, and Keeley is a little less than a year younger than Elena.

**Is Keeley a twin doppelganger?**

NO! NO, NO, NO! Keeley will become very important later on in the series, but she is NOT a twin doppelganger!

**What's up with Anastasia being an alchemist? What the hell is an alchemist?**

Basically she makes shit tons of potions and can perform magic without actually having, well, magic. It's strange. She has magic _inside _of her but can't manipulate it in its raw form like Bonnie can. She has to have a medium (like a potion or a ritual) to work through. It's very complicated, but will be explained in depth in _The Slayer Diaries._

**Anastasia is a bitch. I hate her. Please kill her off.**

Well too fucking bad, man, I happen to really, really like her. I mean I went through the trouble of giving her a semi-redemption arc, so she's less of a bitch now and more of an awesome best friend, but you're definitely going to be seeing a lot of her in _The Slayer Diaries. _I was really hoping that I'd given her enough positive screen time to get more people to like her, but if you don't, that's your problem. If you do, great! I've done my job!

**What do you mean she's going to be a big part of **_**The Slayer Diaries?**_

Well, it's already established that her dad is working for Klaus. You can expect shit tons of drama from that. Also, surprise, surprise, she gets a love interest that I'm super excited about.

**Jeez, Lil! What the hell happens in **_**The Slayer Diaries?**_

So much. Seriously, _so _much happens, you guys. You thought this one had drama? Just wait!

Basic plot summary, however: Sidney and co. deal with the backlash of Katherine coming to town (spoilers, Sidney and Katherine can't fucking stand each other), Damon gets all freaky because of leftover insecurities from his emotionally abusive relationship with Katherine and wants to officially lock it down with Sidney, who isn't so keen on that because A) he's a vampire and she's, you know, a vampire slayer; B) he's a murderer; C) she doesn't think their relationship is very healthy (she's right); D) there's more important things to worry about; and E) she has lots of commitment issues. Also, you know, Klaus is trying to kill Elena, and Mason Lockwood, Sidney's douchey ex-boyfriend, comes to town and terrorizes Damon. Anastasia and her Dad have tons of shit to work through and Klaus harassing the two of them to help him kill Elena doesn't really help matters. Also, Anastasia gets laid. So does Sidney. It's super unhealthy for both of them but it's great.

**Are Damon and Sidney going to actually, officially get together anytime soon?**

Uh… Good question. Basically, they've both accepted the fact that they're kind of in love although neither of them are about to say it out loud, but they aren't really doing the traditional dating thing. They're kind of fuck buddies who love each other for now? Only Sidney was just tortured so she's not interested in the fucking part of that? And both of them want more but don't know how to say it? I don't know man. It's complicated.

**Is Damon going to turn Sidney?**

You'll see.

**Is Sidney ever going to become a vampire?**

You'll see.

**Is Anastasia ever going to become a vampire?**

You'll see.

**Is Keeley ever going to become a vampire?**

We'll both see. I don't know yet.

**Why did you save Harper? What's he going to be doing in the story?**

I saved Harper because he's the biggest cutie pie ever and he didn't deserve to die. Also, I want him to join the gang and maybe end up with Bonnie? IDK, don't be surprised if he becomes cannon fodder for the war against the Originals.

**Speaking of the Originals, how's that going to turn out?**

Uh... They are going to be a kind of major part of Sidney's storyline, although the events of the series are going to change around the third season. People who die on the show won't die in the fic, and people who survived the show won't survive the fic. Also, there will be sex with certain characters. Lots of it. And Rebekah makes a friend, so yay for Rebekah! Also, more than one of the Originals has a crush on Sidney which royally pisses Damon off. There may or may not be a hate-sex-threesome happening? Yeah. Shit goes down, man.

**WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING TO DO WITH KEELEY?**

Alright, this is the part that I need your input on. Keeley develops a romantic relationship with one of the boys (any guesses who?), perhaps even more than one, and becomes a seriously _hugely _important part of the third and final installment of _The Damsel in Distress Diaries _series. I'm going to try very hard not to spoil anything here, but Keeley is the only female main character who remains in Mystic Falls after around where the third season of the show ends.

Which is why I'm thinking about giving her a spin-off series. Think _Vampire Diaries_ without Elena and Bonnie in Mystic Falls after the third season, and with a few of the Mikaelsons remaining. Keeley basically takes the place of Elena only with less dumb ass decisions and more babbling and awkwardness. Kind of like if Stiles from _Teen Wolf _was a female and also the main character of _Vampire Diaries. _And also if two separate entities wanted to get into his pants.

Funnily enough, Keeley is actually my favorite character in _The Damsel in Distress Diaries, _and I really enjoy writing her, although she doesn't get much screen time until the third installment of the series.

And this is why I need your input. I would love, love, _love _to give Keeley her own series, and I already know that I would write the hell out of it. There would be tons of sexy fun times with your favorite vampires and/or bad guys, but I'm not going to write it if I don't think anyone is going to read it. Not to mention I have more than one idea for _Vampire Diaries _fanfictions and I don't know if I would be able to write all of them.

Which is why I'm letting you decide. You read the synopsis for each of my ideas and tell me which one you would like to see. Just because I decide to write one idea doesn't mean I won't write another one, so if you want to see all of them, leave a review and let me know! I want to hear what you think!

**TIME FOR THE POLL: Leave a review telling me which one (or ones) you would like to see!**

_A) A Mad World (Only the Mad are Sane)_; This is Keeley's spin off fic. Basically, _The Damsel in Distress Diaries _is over. Katherine, Sidney, Anastasia, Elena, Tyler, Bonnie, Damon, and every Original but Kol and Fynn (I don't know if I spelled that right) have left Mystic Falls. The remaining members of the Scooby Doo gang are under the impression that all is well and they can live the rest of their lives in peace, until Kai comes to town. Now it's up to Keeley, Caroline, Kol, Fynn, and Stefan to save the day. Keeley is already putting up with not-entirely-unwelcome attentions from Kol, who really, really wants to have sex with her, and then it turns out Stefan may or may not be in love with her, too. Which is a problem, since Caroline, her best friend, has a crush on him. But an entirely different evil vampire has a crush on Caroline, which makes things even more difficult. And to make matters worse, Kai keeps flirting with her while he's trying to kill her. Also, Keeley's dealing with everything that happened to her during the last installment of _The Damsel in Distress Diaries _series (she goes through some shit, you guys), and trying to sustain a somewhat-relationship with Isobel, who decides to come to town at the worst possible time.

B) _Jane Doe; _This is an _Originals _fan fiction, based off of the fact that I have yet to find a good OC fic from that series. (Granted I haven't read very many of them. If you have any suggestions please let me know!) Basically, it follows the life of Jane Doe, who woke up in the hospital with no memory of who she is. The government has no record or idea, either, so she's basically screwed. Flash-forward five years and Jane has made a life for herself in New Orleans as a historian at the city museum. She accidentally becomes involved with the war between the Mikaelsons and the witches, and finds that the secret of her identity is much darker and more, well, supernatural than she was ever expecting. (No, she is not a witch or a blood relation of any of the characters on the show. That would be awful.) She quickly becomes friends with Rebekah, who is way too lonely for her own good, and also has a nice (super sexy) relationship with Klaus. It's pretty great.

C) _Stars, Hide Your Fires; _This is that twin doppelgangers fic I mentioned earlier. The main character is Holly Gilbert, Elena's twin sister (younger by five minutes; she's bitter), with a huge thing for sports. She's basically captain of every single team she's on, a really great ballerina, and also tries to maintain a perfect 4.0 average. Her dream is to go to Columbia University in New York City, where her dad attended, and obviously she's more than a little stressed out. Basically, Klaus comes to town remarkably early and stalks her and Elena because he's trying to build trust between him and the doppelgangers, and accidentally realizes that Holly is a pretty cool person even if she's the most manipulative, high-strung person ever. I'm not sure if that's going to be the main relationship, because I haven't tested out any scenes between the two of them yet, but it very well could happen.

D)_ Dispute Not With Her (She is a Lunatic); _this is not an OC fic, funnily enough, but rather a Klaroline one. It's what would have happened if Klaus had been in Mystic Falls since the beginning of the series.

So yeah! That's it! Let me know what you think, and I can't wait to see how you all react to the final few chapters of _The Damsel in Distress Diaries. _Thank you so, so much for all of the support you've given me so far. I couldn't have gotten this far without each and every single one of you!

Love Always,

Lil


	21. Gilbert's Anatomy

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 20: Gilbert's Anatomy**

**A/N: I received a message earlier this week from a fellow member of this website, telling me that I needed to post the usual disclaimer on this work from now on. Sorry for the confusion, allow me to clear it up for you: I own The Vampire Diaries. All of it. It's all mine. I am now renting out Salvatores and Mikaelsons for a nominal fee. Contact me for more information.**

The thing that people don't tell you about surviving a hostage situation is that the pain and the fear and the horror doesn't end once you're away from your abductors. You still get phantom pains and stinging, burning sensations where you've been hit and cut. You're still terrified to take a shower or use the restroom or change by yourself because you think you'll look at your reflection in the mirror or pull back the shower curtain and they'll be standing there. You still wake up in the middle of the night thinking you can hear them whispering in your ear, only to remember that you made it. You did the impossible. You survived.

Jenna wanted me to see a therapist, _again. _Caroline wanted me to get my unwillingly-shorn hair cut into some semblance of a style (and I didn't blame her. It was hideous as-is). Elena wanted me to _talk_ to her, to tell her how I was feeling. To open up to her.

The only people who didn't want anything from me were Anastasia and Damon. And because of that, they were the only ones I really wanted to see for the first week.

Anastasia, it seemed, was either sleeping, at school, or at my bedside. How she had gotten into my room during non-visiting hours, I wasn't sure, seeing as she wasn't a vampire like Damon. It probably had something to do with her abnormally fawn-like eyes, though, and the fact that she had mastered the perfect puppy-dog-pout at, like, seven years old.

I used to think that Sutter and Madison were the masters at taking my mind off of things, but that title now firmly belonged to Anastasia. She was just so good at _distracting me. _She brought things for me every day; my camera (not that there was much to take pictures of), scrapbooks, my laptop, DVDs, even the copy of _The Call of the Wild _Damon had given me. I read through it twice in the same day.

Anastasia was the one to bring me all the homework I was missing and the one to tell me about all the drama happening at school. (Corbin and Sutter had gotten back together and then broken up within three days, apparently.) Anastasia was the one to bring me Dunkin' Donuts when I got sick of hospital food and the all-water diet I was on. Anastasia was the one to sneak into my room at two in the morning and take me outside in a wheelchair so we could watch the meteor shower I had been wanting to see for the past three months.

But Damon was the one who kept me sane.

"What would you do," he asked me one day, "if there was a blizzard and the second ice age and a yeti and shit?"

"Um... Why- Why are you asking me this, again?"

Damon rolled his eyes and said, "You were _pouting, _Siddie. _Pouting. _You don't pout. _Stefan _pouts. Not you."

This was the kind of thing he had been doing for the past week, watching me closely every second he was near me for some sign of a mental breakdown. The minute I looked the slightest bit unhappy or depressed, he would swoop in with a random question or story to distract me. As dumb as it was, it worked most of the time.

"I don't know," I said, because questioning Damon's methods never got anyone anywhere. "Probably grab Jer, Elena, Jenna and 'Stasia and come over to your house and wait it out with you and the Stef-meister. We'd probably destroy the yetis 'cause we're, you know, bad asses and stuff, and then we'd just, survive, you know?"

I glanced at him for a second and then frowned, shoving aside the tray of food I had been picking at. "And for your information," I decided to tack on, "I'm allowed to pout all I want."

He rolled his eyes once again and shifted. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I-"

I blinked and he was over me, straddling my lap. "You're not allowed to be pouty," he told me, and then his eyes narrowed. "Maybe I need to distract you a bit more."

"Damon," I warned. I hadn't exactly been all too touch-friendly since... everything that happened.

He grinned at me and leaned down even further. I could feel his warm breath against the tip of my cold nose. "Relax, Siddie," he warned me. "You're always taking care of everyone else. Let someone take care of you, for once."

Almost of it's own violation, my body began to uncoil itself and I slumped back against the mountain of pillows beneath me as Damon loomed over me, a predatory look in his eyes that scared me almost as much as it excited me. I felt a twinge of heat down below, and then a hint of pain. The reminder of my current state nearly sobered me, and I whimpered out, "Damon", again.

"Sssh," he cooed. "You'll be fine. I've got you."

"But I don't know if I ca- Mmmph!"

He was kissing me. It was hungrier than usual, almost desperate, and I knew what he was thinking as his mouth melded with mine. I had gotten good at that, reading him. The familiarity between us should have scared me, but I was too far gone to be bothered. He was making sure that I was still there, that I wasn't just a dream, that I had survived. The thought and the kiss managed to ground me into the present the way only he could these days.

Damon finally pulled back and I gasped for breath, my cheeks and nose flushing in a way they hadn't since Mason Lockwood had flirted with me back before we had even begun dating. But Damon didn't _kiss _me very often. _Kissing_ was just a bit too intimate, I thought, even if we had only really gone there in our relationship twice, this time being the third.

I opened my mouth to say something to him- I wasn't sure what yet, but it was there- but he simply glared playfully and clamped a hand over my mouth.

"What part of 'sssh' did you not understand?" he growled.

And then Damon reached for my hospital gown.

That's when I unraveled.

_A hand reached for my sweater. I struggled, even as the crowd of vampires laughed at me. No, no, no- Don't touch me there. Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Don't-_

"Don't touch me!" I cried out, struggling around the hand at my mouth and knocking aside its twin at the neckline of my gown. "Stop! Please- _please stop-_!"

Damon pulled back immediately. "Too much?" he asked.

I nodded without thought. "Too much," I panted. This wasn't the first time he had tried something like this.

There came a knock from the door to my hospital room, and someone cleared their throat. "Am I interrupting something?"

Sheriff Forbes stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised at the scene she had walked in on. I flushed hotly and tried to wiggle my way out from underneath Damon, who simply frowned and maneuvered the two of us so that I was sitting on his lap. When I frowned and tried to scoot away, he tightened his arms once as a warning and grinned down at me.

"Liz," Damon greeted. "What can we do for you?"

"Hello, Damon," Sheriff Forbes replied, an exasperated sort of grin tugging at her the corners of her mouth. "I'm here to see Sidney, as a matter of fact."

I tensed immediately, finally succeeding in disentangling myself from Damon, and said, "I already gave my testimony to Deputy Devlin-"

Sheriff Forbes held up a hand, silencing me. "What you told my Deputy wasn't true, Sidney, and we all know it."

The breath left me in one big rush. I had thought that the story Stefan and Alaric had come up with (that I had been the victim of a kidnapping and my abductor had been killed when Damon rescued me) was a good one, close enough to the truth to make it believable and traumatizing enough to where only the police and my psychiatrist would be asking me about it. Before I could ask her what the hell she was talking about, Sheriff Forbes was talking again.

"We know," she told me, "about the vampires."

"What-"

"Don't play dumb, Sidney," the Sheriff warned. "I know what really happened to you. Has Damon told you about the Council?"

I was on the defensive immediately, my hand inching toward my thigh, where a stake was usually strapped to. I knew about the Council and their hatred of vampires, and if they thought I was in any way connected to them, if they caught on to my sister's involvement with them, I wasn't quite sure what would happen, but I knew it wouldn't be good. I balled my hand into a fist and nodded slowly.

"We want you to join."

I blinked up at her. This was the exact opposite of what I had been expecting. "What?"

Sheriff Forbes frowned at me, looking exceedingly like Caroline in that moment, and I recoiled a bit. _"Keep up, Sid,"_ Caroline's voice seemed to sigh in my head. Forbes women were not to be messed with, I reminded myself.

"We want you to join the Council as the official Gilbert member," Sheriff Forbes explained. "You're eighteen now, and head of the family, and the Council decided that it's only fitting you take your father's seat after your... ordeal."

I flinched at the reminder, and my scalp and chest began to ache again, as well as the slowly-healing hole on my pelvis.

"I'll think about it," I told her, which really meant I was going to scream at Damon for getting me involved in his dumb ass schmoozing plans before making up my mind.

Sheriff Forbes narrowed her eyes at me before nodding, and then left without so much as a goodbye. I whirled on Damon the moment she was out of earshot.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I hissed, swatting him over the head with a pale hand.

He groaned at me and rubbed the area of impact, scowling. "I'm beginning to think they're going to put that on my tomb stone when I die."

"You're already dead," I reminded him, not taking the bait. "Why did you let the Council know that I know?"

Damon sighed deeply, almost patronizingly. I was once again reminded of the analogy of the kindergarten teacher and his unruly student, only in this case it was a homicidal vampire and an unhappy, injured monster slayer.

"If you're on the council with me, you can help me keep them from getting too close to what's really happening in Mystic Falls," he said slowly, like he was talking to someone who was hard of hearing.

"And is there a reason why you can't just do that yourself?"

"Yes," he answered immediately, and then thought for a second before tacking on, "I'm a vampire, Siddie. I can't get too involved or else they'll find out the truth, and then Stefan and I will be the ones they're hunting instead of the other way around."

I stared at him for a minute, scowling. He had a point, but up until now I had been a bit removed from all of the vampire goings-on around town. I only really got involved when something happened that effected Elena or my friends or Damon's search for Katherine. I wasn't quite sure I was willing to take the plunge into the deep end quite yet.

"I need to think about it," I said instead, "_alone._"

Damon glanced down at me, eyes narrowed and assessing, before nodding slowly and getting to his feet. He was guarded now, manipulative, and I braced myself for what he was going to say, knowing that it would be a statement calculated to sway me to his side. He was good at that, getting me to do what he wanted me to.

"You do that, Siddie. Call me when you've made up your mind."

And then just like that, he was gone, and I was alone again.

* * *

Christmas came and went. I spent it in the hospital with Anastasia and my family. I was actually glad for it. The unexpected change in location seemed to successfully distract us from the absence of my parents, although I noticed that _look _in Elena's eyes more than once. She had been acting weird ever since the incident, but I hadn't taken the time to ask her about it, hadn't wanted to bring up what had happened to me.

A lot of effort went into the festivities this year, I knew. I was wearing one of our dad's ugly Christmas sweaters that morning, to keep his tradition of present-opening attire alive. Jenna had snuck in some hot chocolate for all of us, and Anastasia kept snapping candids of me and my family on my Polaroid camera, something she knew that I loved. Jeremy even smuggled in a bottle of champagne, which he left beneath my pillow for me to find that night after every one had left.

So Christmas was great, but the next day sucked royal ass dicks.

* * *

_December 26th, 2012_

_Dear Diary,_

_Doctor Crull wants me to get a breast reduction._  
_It's so funny. Earlier this year I was more than ready to get one. Hell, I _begged_ Mom to let me get one when I was sixteen. And now... Now that insurance is finally approving it and we don't have to pay for it and I don't have to wait the usual six months..._  
_I don't want it._  
_I don't want any of it._  
_But the thing is, if I don't do this, it will affect me for life. I sustained too many injuries to my chest and I guess that means I might have trouble breathing later in life unless the "area of impact" is removed. But I don't want what happened to affect me anymore than it already has._  
_I already lost my children and my hair, do I really have to lose my boobs, too?_  
_I'm tired of this- tired of being helpless. I'm so tired of things just _happening _to me and me reacting to them best I can and just trying to keep everyone I love safe. I put so much effort into keeping my family together that I've barely paid any attention to keeping myself together. _  
_Well, I'm done. I'm done with things just happening to me._

_Sincerely,_  
_Sidney_

* * *

**Message Sent: 12/26/12-8:24pm**

**To: Dickface Evil Vampire**  
Hey asshole tell the council im joining. Merry Christmas. Please dont kill anyone while im not there to stop you  
**Message Received: 12/26/12-8:25pm**

* * *

**Message Sent: 12/26/12-8:25pm**

**To: Siddie**  
Great. Welcome to the world of vampire politics. No promises on the notkilling people thing  
**Message Received: 12/26/12-8:26pm**

* * *

To say that Keeley was nervous would be an understatement.

She shouldn't have been nervous. It's not like she was doing anything she should actively be nervous _about. _She was just meeting with her dad. That's all.

Meeting with her dad to talk about the fact that vampires were real, he hunted them, and also apparently her mother was one and he may not really be her father at all.

So yeah, maybe she did have quite a bit to be nervous about.

At least Elena and Jenna Gilbert were coming along to supervise. That made things less tense, even if it meant they couldn't talk about vampires and even if Elena might turn out to be Keeley's fraternal twin sister.

Shit. Again with the awkward.

Coming back to the apartment was weird. There was evidence of Keeley and Alaric's life together all over the place, a life Keeley wasn't so sure existed anymore. Her coffee cups littering the living room, his half-graded papers plastered against the kitchen table, peppered with all of Keeley's biographies and documentaries. They were swept aside, as per usual, to make room for the four of them to sit across from each other and stare awkwardly until one of them spoke.

Alaric set a mug of coffee down in front of Keeley, just the way she liked it: three creams, no sugar, a dash of cinnamon, and a coffee cup with a sassy saying on it. This one read, "Coffee. Because crack is bad for you." The cup usually would have made Keeley smile, now it just made her feel vaguely ill.

"Thanks," she muttered, forcing herself to take a sip. It was good coffee, which was a shame, because she knew she wouldn't be drinking any more of it.

Alaric took a seat across from her, folding his arms down onto the table and then staring at her for a good few minutes. "Let's cut to the chase then," he said. "What do you want to know?"

"A lot," Keeley said, although most of it couldn't be said right now because, um, hello, _Jenna_, and also Keeley didn't really want to say the v-word because it made her entire life right now sound like a joke even thought it totally wasn't and vampires were fucking real _holy shit_-!

"Are Elena and I sisters?" she asked instead. It just kind of came out. Not much thought went into it, kind of like the majority of the things she said.

"Yes," Alaric said, and Keeley wanted to puke again. "Half-sisters. I'm your biological father."

"Well shit, Dad!" Keeley spluttered. "You could have said that in the first place instead of giving me a damn heart attack. Jesus Christ!"

"Keeley," Alaric chided.

She glowered at him before fishing a quarter out of her jeans pocket and tucking it into the swear jar on the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elena visibly relax. Keeley knew how she felt. As much as she liked Elena (not much. Keeley didn't know her that well, actually), she didn't really want to be her sister. Also, you know, Keeley didn't want Alaric to _not _be her dad. That would just suck.

Elena exhaled audibly, and then said, "Alright. Can I ask what the timeline for all this happening is? It's just... Keeley and I are extremely close in age, and, well..."

Awkward as the question was, Elena was right to ask it. It was one hell of a coincidence. True, Elena was older than most in their grade, and Keeley was young, but still. Barely a year between the two of them and they'd had the same mother but two different fathers... Weird. Just- Everything about this whole fucking situation was weird, and Keeley hadn't even gotten started on the vampires yet.

Alaric blushed. Actually, legitimately blushed. That was a weird thing to see. Really, really weird.

"We were young," he said bashfully. _Bashfully. _Alaric Saltzman didn't _do _bashful. Neither did Keeley, for that matter. "I hadn't even known her the night, well... It was a one-night stand gone wrong. She showed up on my doorstep two months later, pregnant, and I didn't really know what to do. I fell in love with her over the next seven months, and the day Keeley came into our lives, I proposed. I didn't even know about Elena or John until after the wedding."

Elena flinched. Keeley could tell this description of their mother had rubbed her the wrong way. Keeley didn't blame her. It had affected her, too.

"And you never thought," she said, "to tell me that I had a _sister_?"

"Alright," Jenna interrupted, which Keeley was glad for because she was about to explode, which would, predictably, involve a lot of cursing and scathing comments which she would regret the next day. "You two obviously have a lot of tension to work out, and I know Keeley isn't quite ready to come back yet-"

"You absolutely fucking have that right-"

"_Keeley_-"

"Okay, okay!"

This time, an entire dollar went into the swear jar. Both Gilbert girls glared throughout the entire exchange between father and daughter, although Jenna seemed more amused than anything else.

"As I was saying," she continued, fighting back a smile. "How about Keeley comes to stay with us until both of you calm down? I wouldn't mind another girl under the roof while Sidney is out, and I'm totally capable of keeping an eye on her."

"Jenna," Alaric began, "while I appreciate the offer, you really don't have to-"

Jenna held up a hand, stopping him. This time she did grin. "I wasn't offering," she corrected, all playfulness and bright eyes. "I was insisting."

Keeley and Alaric glanced at each other and then looked away in the exact same heartbeat.

"Alright," they said together.

* * *

When Elena came to visit me after her talk with Jenna and the Saltzmans, she was crying.

Elena, contrary to popular belief, was not beautiful at every moment of every day, and now was a perfect example. She was an ugly crier. A really, really ugly crier. There was lots of snot and red eyes and puffy cheeks and the whole shabang. She didn't cry much, but when she did, she cried so hard she could barely speak.

I couldn't make out what she was saying this time, something about Isobel and how sorry she was that we weren't really sisters, and how she felt like her entire life was falling apart. It broke my heart either way. I felt like a horrible sister. How could she ever doubt how much I loved her?

"Elena," I breathed, and _dammit._ Yep. I was about to cry again. But how could I not, seeing my beautiful sister in tears? "Oh, Elena."

Without a thought for the pain in my chest, I pulled her into a deep, hard hug, ignoring the biting, burning sensation that started when I did.

"How could you possibly think, for even the slightest moment, that I would stop loving you just because you're Uncle John's daughter? How could you think that our parents would love you any less because you're adopted? That Jeremy would? We love you, Elena. We love you so much it's unbelievable. Nothing will ever change that. Do you understand? DNA doesn't make you family. Love does, and nothing you could possibly do or say could make me stop loving you."

If it was possible, she cried even harder.

* * *

"This is a really shitty way to spend New Year's Eve."

Damon just stared at me, like he was prone to any time questions about my mental and physical health were brought up.

"Are you sure you don't want some blood?" he asked me, not beating around the bush, as per usual when trying to get me to do something I didn't want to.

This time, _I _rolled my eyes at _him. _"Yes, I'm sure. There's a ninety-seven-percent survival, rate, Damon-"

"Yeah, and only three percent of the world are vampiric, and yet, here I am. You kind of have shit luck with this kind of thing, Siddie."

"I don't want to be a vampire, Damon," I told him slowly. "You know that."

He stared at me for a few minutes before nodding slowly. "Alright," he said. "If you're sure..." And then, because he probably didn't know what else to do, he said, "Good luck, then", and disappeared in a flutter of window curtains.

My nerves were much harder to ignore with him gone.

Today was the day I was getting the reduction done. I had been surprised at how quickly it was going to be done once I had agreed to it, and by the fact that Mystic Falls General Hospital offered an operation usually taken on by plastic surgeons. They didn't, under normal circumstances, I later found out. But this wasn't a normal circumstance, and they were worried about what the damage to my chest would do to my lungs and heart if left to itself for too long.

I had already resigned myself to the fact that this was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not, had already decided I was going to do whatever it took to get better and then utterly destroy any vampire who so much as sneezed at Mystic Falls in the wrong way. But that didn't mean that I wasn't still scared.

Still, I wasn't about to let my family catch on to that.

"Are you sure you're alright with us going tonight?" Elena asked dubiously. "We really don't mind staying."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were looking for an excuse not to go," I teased. "Really, though. I'll be fine. Go. Enjoy yourselves. Don't worry about me."

Elena and Jenna both frowned, although Jeremy grinned at me, even if it didn't quite reach his eyes. They were all worried for me. Touching, really. Uncle John was the misnomer, staring out the window, not interacting with any of us. I didn't quite know why he was here. It was almost painfully obvious that he didn't give a flying fuck about me.

I had known Uncle John was in town, but I hadn't known he was going to be coming to visit me. Jeremy had texted me upon our uncle's arrival the day before: **The bitch is back. **I hadn't really known what that meant until Elena told me that night.

I didn't really hate Uncle John as much as the rest of my family seemed to, although I definitely didn't like him. He made me uncomfortable, on edge. He was too shifty, never meeting my eyes for longer than a few seconds, never straying too far from a door or a window, like he was looking for an escape route. I didn't like the way he looked at Elena, either, although now I realized that was probably because he knew that he was her father.

Yet another thing to dislike him for.

Almost as if he sensed me staring at him (he probably could, asshole), Uncle John turned from his perch in the chair next to the window and looked at me. Then he smiled. It was overwhelmingly creepy.

Jenna and Elena were preoccupied trying to straighten out Jeremy's rumpled appearence, so Uncle John took the opportunity to talk to me. I hated it when he did that.

"Sidney," he said.

_"Johnathan," _I wanted to throw back at him in the most immature voice ever. I refrained, however. I was an adult now, all vampire slaying and such. I had to be mature... Right?

John ignored my internal bitching and continued, "We need to talk once you're out of surgery. It's important."

I paled and then nodded in the same second. Oh God. Was he going to tell me that he was Elena's father? Why? Why would he do that? Did he not know that Elena knew that he knew he was her father?

And why was my family life so damn complicated?

"Alright," I said,because _stop fucking staring at me you creepy ass motherfucker._ "Cool. Yeah, let's do that."

And then he _hugged me._ I made panic eyes at Elena over his shoulder. She did her best to hold in a laugh at my predicament. I kind of hated her right then.

Jenna was amused too, although she did a better job at reigning it in, glaring daggers at Uncle John when he finally let go of me.

"If you're finished," she said coldly, and the asshole fucking _smirked_ at her. Jenna glared frostily for a few more seconds before she looked at me and then warmed. A nervous shadow crossed her face, and she reached down to brush my short hair out of my eyes, bending down to kiss my forehead.

"I love you," she told me. "You're going to be fine. I promise."

My heart wrenched a little bit, and I staved off tears. I missed Mom.

"I know, Jenna," I said. "I love you, too."

One by one the rest of my tiny family wished me luck, and Jeremy, my little brother Jeremy, actually started crying as he left. I felt awful for worrying him. The poor kid had been through more than enough.

The nurse who passed them on their way out looked at me with a reassuring smile. "You're lucky," she said, as she wheeled my out of the hospital room. "Not many people have a family as good as yours."

I grinned ruefully. She didn't have a clue. "Yeah. You're right. I am lucky."

* * *

Having small boobs, I later discovered, was an even bigger mindfuck than the vampires had been.

The surgery itself had been relatively painless, considering the fact that I was, you know, drugged into sleep, but my breasts ached like no other once I was awake. The weird thing was, my back didn't hurt anymore. I hadn't realized how much it did until what caused it was gone. My posture was better, too, and I thought my body looked more balanced with the two huge lumps on the front of me gone. Hopefully that would help my balance in general, with, you know, slaying vampires and playing soccer and all.

Anyway.

If I thought the boobs were a bad mindfuck, I was wrong. They didn't even come close to the weirdness that was Elena and Keeley visiting me _together._

Elena didn't like Keeley. She thought the other girl was annoying and crass and was maybe just a little jealous of her friendship with Caroline, although she wouldn't admit it. I didn't know Keeley well enough for her to tell me if she liked my sister, and she was nice to literally everyone so that wasn't much of an indicator, but she acted awkward around Elena, I had noticed... Well, more awkward than she usually was.

I knew that Keeley was staying with us while fighting with her dad, mostly because Elena had been complaining about it and Jeremy had been laughing at her, but I hadn't expected the two of them to become _friends_ as a result.

"Mutual hatred works wonders for relationships," was all Keeley told me when I finally worked up enough courage to ask about it. I assumed she was talking about Isobel, their mother, in which case I concurred.

Elena was staring at my boobs. "They're so small," she said in wonder, eyes blown wide. "I can't- They used to be so _big_-" She reached out a finger and poked one.

"Ouch!" I hissed, and then cradled them protectively. "They're still very sensitive. No touching, please."

Keeley stifled a giggle into her pink scarf, and Elena's eyes were so big I thought they would fall out of her face.

"I'm so sorry!" she said hastily. "I'll make it up to you! We can go to Victoria's Secret once you're out of here and blow all of our Christmas money on cute lingerie for you."

I nodded automatically, face flushing when I thought of what Damon's reaction to that would be, seeing as if anyone was actually going to see me in said lingerie, it would be him.

"Sounds good to me," I said instead. "How was the party last night?"

Elena sighed deeply. Every year the first day of January marked the start of Founders' month, which was almost exclusively made up of parties, parades, and underage drinking. Our mother usually organized it, and I could only imagine that Mrs. Lockwood had been chomping at the bit to be in charge this year.

Keeley was the one who answered. "Good. Until Tyler Lockwood ruined it by making out with Matt Donovan's mom."

"What? Ew!" I cried. "Why is it I'm not surprised?"

Elena shrugged and then rolled her eyes. "I wasn't."

I bit my lip. Mrs. Donovan had never been Elena's biggest fan while she and Matt were going out. The feeling was a mutual one, I knew, although both women did a good job at hiding it from Matt. Elena wasn't too keen on Tyler, either, although I thought Matt might be the only person in Mystic Falls who _did _like that asshole. I couldn't stand him, personally, relationship with my douche-y ex boyfriend not withstanding.

As memories of the year previous began to resurface, one stuck and reminded me of something. "Oh yeah!" I gasped. "Miss Mystic Falls is tomorrow, isn't it?"

Elena winced. "Don't remind me," she groaned, falling forward and planting her face in the bed next to my leg. "I'm going to be horrible!"

Keeley and I exchanged a look over her gleaming, dark head, and Keeley rolled her eyes before grinning goofily.

"Oh, don't say that," she chided. "You're really pretty and nice and polite and princess-y and stuff. You'll do great!"

Elena huffed and sat up, frowning. Her hair was rumpled cutely. "It's funny," she mused. "I remember being so jealous of Sidney for being able to compete last year, and being so excited about being able to compete this year, and now that I'm actually doing it, I really couldn't care less."

"What were you jealous of?" I asked dryly. "Me tripping on my dress halfway down the stairs or having lipstick smeared on my teeth during pictures and no one telling me until after?"

The three of us laughed for a minute and then sobered. I cleared my throat and licked my lower lip, biting down on it.

"Still," I said, "I'm sorry that I'll be missing it."

Elena waved a hand through the air nonchalantly. "Don't be," she told me, "I'll be a total train wreck."

"What are you going to be a train wreck at?"

Keeley shrieked and fell out of her chair. Damon had appeared in the window while we were laughing, and none of us had noticed until now.

I frowned at him. "You really need to start using the door one of these days," I told him as Elena got up and opened the latch, letting the window swing into the room so he could come in.

Damon just grinned at me, eyes mixing. "Nah. I like surprising you- keeps you on your toes, Siddie. Hunters' instinct and all."

Keeley had gotten back into her chair and was eyeing Damon warily, obviously still nervous about the whole vampire thing. Not that I blamed her in the slightest. Damon scanned the room and took notice of her.

"You might want to clear the room, Daughter Dearest," he quipped. "Daddy's parking his car right now. Wants to pay a visit to Siddie."

Keeley blinked at him and then squeaked, nodding, gathering up her bag and then practically running out of my room. Damon and Elena sighed at the same time.

"I guess I'd better go, too," she dead-panned. "Bye, Sidney."

"I'll be cheering for you!" I called after her, and then whirled on Damon once she had left. "What do you and Alaric need me for?"

It was a good question, in my opinion. I was detached from the epic bromance that was Alaric Saltzman and Damon Salvatore, and both men had made it clear that females were not welcome when they were doing their dynamic duo thing. I didn't know what they did together- whether it was penis jousting, bitching about Gilbert women, or just slaying vampires- but when they did it, everyone else got kicked out of the Boarding House.

It was an honor to be included this time around, really.

"What do you know about the Gilbert rings?" Damon asked, cutting straight to the chase, which was a relief. He usually made me jump through ten verbal hoops before telling me what he wanted to tell me.

"N-"

Alaric entered the room, nodded at me, and then leaned up against the wall and glowered. Damon motioned for me to continue, and I glared at both men before doing so.

"Not much," I grumbled, and then proceeded to tell them what Carson had told me about where my ring had come from, as well as what little I knew about the ones given to the men in our family who weren't hunters. "Why do you ask?"

"Your uncle has one," Alaric replied stiffly, still refusing to look at me.

"Yeah," I said, because _no shit. _"So-?" I paused, then glared at Damon. "You tried to kill him, didn't you?"

"In my defense," Damon said in a voice that told me he wasn't sorry in the slightest, "he did try to kill me first."

"Explain," I ordered. "_Now._"

Learning that my uncle was a hunter wasn't surprising. Learning that he was a psychopathic murderer who wanted every vampire on the face of the planet dead wasn't surprising, either. But it still managed to royally fucking piss me off, anyways.

He had known that I was a hunter _this entire God damn time_, and he hadn't _fucking said anything to me?_

_What a fucking asshole!_

"I really, really hate him," I stated dumbly, before twisting off my ring (something I hadn't done since receiving it), and holding it out toward Alaric. "Here," I said. "See if it looks anything like yours."

Alaric glanced between the two of them for a few minutes before shaking his head and handing me my ring back. I breathed a sigh of relief before slipping it back onto my finger. I felt naked without it, nowadays.

"Yours must be different then ours, then," Alaric said. "I'm guessing it doesn't bring you back to life."

"Well, I haven't exactly tested that particular feature, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say no. And before you ask, Damon, I don't give a shit if I'll turn into a vampire afterward. You're not killing me to see if it works."

Damon had the decency to look sheepish, at least.

"Well then," he said, "I guess there's nothing else for us to do here. Come on, Ric."

Both men turned to leave, and I grumbled, "What, no 'thank you'?"

Damon rolled his eyes at me over his shoulder. "You should never assume I'm not grateful for your wonderful presence, Siddie."

I faltered long enough for them to make an escape, and then screamed, "What does that even mean, you ass?"

An echoing laugh was the only answer I recieved from him.

* * *

Keeley had yet to attend a slew of the high-class events Mystic Falls was known for, the Miss Mystic competition being her second. It was also the most interesting. Caroline had talked about practically nothing but the pageant for almost two months now, and Keeley was excited to see her compete. The blonde was quickly becoming her best friend, and Keeley wanted Caroline to win almost as much as Caroline did.

Elena was the favorite, though, something Keeley didn't understand, no matter how many times Caroline had explained it to her. Sure, Elena was sweet and all, but she wasn't as involved as Caroline was, or really as... Well, _bright. _That was the only way Caroline could be described. She just had this natural energy around her that Keeley found breathtaking, and she didn't understand why everyone else couldn't see it, too.

In Keeley's opinion, Caroline hung the moon, and no one deserved to be Miss Mystic Falls as much as she did.

The rest of the town didn't seem to agree with her, she soon found out. The first time she talked with Mrs. Lockwood, who was judging the competition, the other woman commented on how pretty and involved Caroline was, and then said it was a shame she wasn't from a Founding Family.

Caroline was right, then. The Founding Families really were biased assholes- Gilberts and Salvatores not included.

Speaking of Salvatores, one was missing. Where the hell was Stefan? He was going to miss escorting Elena!

Spotting Damon over the crowd, Keeley strode over as best she could in her heels and tugged on the vampire's jacket sleeve.

"Hi," she squeaked. "Where- um- where is your brother? The broody one, I mean, just in case you have, like, more than one."

Damon raised an eyebrow at her, face troubled. "You," he said, finally, seeming to come to some sort of decision. "You're well-versed in vampires."

"Um, not really-" Keeley began, kind of wondering what the hell she had just gotten herself into. Damon ignored her and plowed on.

"Whatever. Look, I need you to keep Stefan from killing the blonde while I get Elena."

"Which blonde?" Keeley asked sharply, attention caught. Never mind the whole killing thing. Was Caroline in danger?

"Not Forbes," Damon said, rolling his eyes. "The other one. Ashley or Allison or something like that."

"Amber?"

"_Whatever._" Damon grabbed Keeley by the shoulders and shoved her in the general direction of the door. She stumbled over her heels and wondered what the fuck Sidney saw in him. "Stefan's got her in the back parking lot. Off you go now, baby Ric."

One glare later, and off Keeley went.

Getting through the crowd watching the pageant and around the bar was the hard part, but once she had made it into the entrance hall and slipped off her heels, it was easy to find Stefan and Amber. They were right where Damon had said they would be, in the back parking lot. Stefan was pacing back and forth in front of his car, veins and eyes black, and Amber was sitting on the pavement, pageant dress torn and an odd look on her face. Keeley assumed that she was being compelled, and her hand immediately drifted to the vervain necklace she had started wearing, just to assure herself that it was still there. Stefan's head whipped up at the movement.

"Keeley," he said, in a voice that sounded like gravel. "You can't be here right now."

She ignored him, eyes fixed on Amber, who looked like she was completely out of it. Keeley may have been terrified, and she may not have known what the hell was going on, and she and Alaric might have been fighting right then, but she was her father's daughter and she wasn't going to let Amber die.

"Tough shit," Keeley said, even as she trembled in fear. "Why did Damon tell me you were going to kill Amber?"

Stefan froze, shoulders hunched, and he looked more like a predator than Keeley had ever thought was possible. "Because I might," he answered rapidly. "And if you don't leave, I might kill you, too."

"No you won't," Keeley told him. "You're Stefan- good vampire Cullen and all that. You kill deer and bunnies, not humans."

Stefan's mouth twitched. Probably getting his fangs ready so he could rip out her vocal chords and get her to shut up. Great. Great way to end the shittiest three weeks Keeley had ever been through. She had some great fucking luck, didn't she?

"That was before," Stefan hissed out. It sounded almost like talking to her was causing him physical pain.

"Before what?" Keeley quipped, fully aware that she was probaby annoying him out of his mind right about then.

"_Before I drank Elena's blood._"

"You drank Elena's blood?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"It doesn't matter. _Go_!"

Keeley stared at him for a second, and decided to do the stupidest thing she had ever thought of doing, and maybe the last thing she would ever do.

She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. "Prove it."

"Prove what?" Stefan asked, hands clawing at his throat. She wondered if he even knew he was doing that.

"Prove that you drink human blood," Keeley pressed. "If you're a killer vampire now, then kill me."

There was silence for what felt like a very long time after that. Without looking away from Keeley's face, Stefan croaked out, "Amber. Go." The blonde ran, looking terrified, and it was just the two of them. Very thirsty vampire and very scared human.

Keeley felt quite small, suddenly.

* * *

"Well, this is awkward."

Elena, although she didn't make a move to admit it, was forced to agree with Damon. Being escorted onto the dance floor by her sister's vampire kind-of boyfriend and her vampire boyfriend's vampire brother, _was_ awkward. But saying so meant admitting defeat and like hell Elena was going to give Damon that satisfaction.

"What are your intentions with my sister?" she asked instead, and Damon nearly tripped over his own two feet in the middle of their waltz.

Ha. See how he liked it.

"_What_?" Damon spluttered. Elena couldn't help but feel a little proud.

"I _said_, what are your intentions with my sister," she repeated. "It's a perfectly acceptable question, considering all the shit she's been through because of you."

Damon sniffed at her, looking away for a little while, and Elena was forced to wonder if even he knew the answer to her question.

"I care about her," he finally managed to spit out. "And I really hope that satisfies you because it's all you're getting."

"It doesn't, thanks."

"Tough shit. I've got the vervain. We're injecting Stefan with it as soon as this God damn dance is over with."

Elena found herself nodding, even if her stomach twisted with nerves. She hadn't told Sidney about what was going on with Stefan. Hadn't told anyone, really, except for Damon, and that was only because he was Stefan's brother and would have caught on anyway.

The truth was, Elena was embarrassed. Stefan was going through hell right now, and it was all her fault. She should have known better than to force him to drink her blood. She should have been strong enough to help him fight off the tomb vampires. Maybe not all five of the ones that had come for them, but at least one or two. She should have realized what was going on sooner, too. She should have been able to put a stop to it before things got out of control.

She should have done a lot of things, but she hadn't, and now she was going to have to drug her boyfriend to keep him from killing people.

God, was that a messed up concept.

The dance passed quickly, if awkwardly, and went rather smoothly considering the fact that Elena wasn't very light on her feet in the first place and Sidney's complaints of how awful a dancer Damon was seemed to ring true. Either way, they were done soon enough, and human and vampire were pushing through the crowd and running toward the back parking lot, praying Stefan hadn't killed anyone before they could get to him.

When they saw him, he had his hands on Keeley's shoulders and she was muttering something in his ear. Elena might have been jealous if Stefan didn't look like he was about to cry.

"Wha-?" Elena began.

"I sent her," Damon said, a pensive look on his face. He was staring at Keeley like he had stared at Elena a few weeks ago- like there was more to her than he had thought there was. Elena didn't really know how to feel about that.

Damon shook his head and took the syringe out of his pocket. "Ready?" he asked.

_"No," _Elena wanted to scream. _"I will never be ready for this."_ But she nodded anyway.

It was for Stefan's own good.

* * *

The night of the Miss Mystic Falls competition, there was a knock on my hospital room door. I was expecting a visit from Carson, so I called out, "Come in!", not even bothering to look up from the scrap book I was flipping through.

"Sidney," Uncle John's voice said. "I'm glad to see you're awake."

I tensed immediately. Uncle John and I didn't talk much, but when we did, it never seemed to work out in my favor.

"Why are you here?" I asked bluntly, and he smiled at me, seemingly amused.

"You know about vampires."

My mouth tightened and I chewed robotically on my lower lip. Was everyone finding out that I knew this week? Was this just a thing now?

"Yeah," I replied. "So?"

"You have a relationship with one," John pressed, but even thought my heart started pounding in my ears when he brought up Damon, I didn't take the bait.

John seemed disappointed. "Did your father ever tell you about vampire slayers?"

"No." This time it really was Carson who walked through the door. "But I did, with no help from you, asshole."

John straightened, hand twitching toward his coat pocket the way mine twitched toward my thigh.

"Mr. West," he grunted. "I assume it's safe to say that you took over for Jason-"

"More than safe," Carson interrupted. They knew each other, I gathered. And hated each other, too. Good. I could always count on Carson. "I taught her everything."

John snorted. "I can see what a good job you've done, too, what with her practically shacking up with one of them-"

"I had no part in that-"

"Hey!" I interrupted, annoyed now.

Did everyone know about me and Damon? I thought we had done a good job hiding it!

"What I do or don't do with my free time is none of either of your business," I continued hotly, wishing we weren't doing this in my hospital room so that I could leave this situation all together. I turned on John. "Like Carson said, I don't need your help. Too little too late, and all that. So if you could kindly fuck off now?"

Uncle John stared at me for a minute. His jaw tightened so badly I could practically hear it snapping. He got to his feet.

"Watch yourself, Sidney," he told me as he collected his coat. "Getting involved with vampires like that can only lead to heartbreak and death. I'll come see you again soon."

He left, then, and I was relieved to see him go.

And yet, somehow I doubted that was the last I would hear from him about this.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, kind of a weird chapter, but I figured we all deserved a little break from drama and angst, especially with the shit we went through last time. At least Keeley got in on the action for once, and we see Uncle John for the first time. Not to worry though, Sidney will be back into the thick of things next update, which should come sometime next week.**

**On to a more celbratory note: I want to thank each and every single one of you for all of the favorites, follows, and love you have given this story. As a result, we are now the twentieh most popular Damon/OC story on the site! Whooooo!**

**Poll results will be up later today, so keep a look out for that, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter. Drop a review down below if you feel like it. It'll make my day. Only three more chapters and an epilogue to go! I hope you're ready for it!**


	22. Poll Results!

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Poll Results!**

So, yeah. Thanks to everyone who voted and for the wonderful things you had to say, and yeah. Here goes.

And the winner is (drum roll please)...

_Jane Doe!_

Yeah, I was completely surprised by this one, but almost every single person who voted requested for me to write this! Thank you, that means so much to me!

Here is the somewhat-official synopsis for _Jane Doe_:

Jane doesn't know who she is. No one does, for that matter. After nearly six years of looking for answers, with help from her detective friend, Fletcher, she's almost given up. But when Rebekah Mikaelson turns to the archives Jane works at for help reclaiming New Orleans, Jane is thrown headfirst into the turf war, and into the attention of Klaus, who isn't planning on letting her go anytime soon.

I'm currently planning on releasing _Jane Doe_ in late Decembe/January. Follow ny account to be notified when it comes out, or just stop and check after Christmas.

In second place is Keeley's spin-off story, now titled _The Lunatic Diaries_! This will begin after _The Damsel in Distress Diaries_ trilogy is complete, so hopefully around this time next year. Keep reading _The Damsel in Distress Diaries_, and its sequals, if you want to read that one.

As for the third _Vampire Diaries_ fanfiction I will be releasing in the foreseeable future, I have to apologize. This one wasn't in the poll, mostly because I didn't think anyone would want to read it. However, my friend Ishanti convinced me otherwise, and as a birthday present to her, I've decided to actually write the damn thing since she seems so obsessed with the idea. (Love you Ishanti!)

The name of the story is _Stars, Hide Your Fires._ It centers around Adeline Salvatore, younger sister of Zach Salvatore and co-owner of the Boarding House. She manages to remain somewhat-removed from all the vampire goings-on until Elijah comes to town and she falls in love with him, not realizing that he is, in fact, Elijah. I have a lot of love for Adeline as a character, since I think she might be the most pure one I've ever thought up, and I'm really excited for the opportunity to write her. I'm not sure yet if this is going to be a love triangle with Klaus as the third member yet, even though Ishanti has been begging me too, since Adeline and Klaus really don't get much screen time together, and he wouldn't have much of a reason to get to know her enough to like her. Plus, I really like Adeline and Elijah together.

I'm assuming _Stars, Hide Your Fires_ will begin a month after _The Slayer Diaries, _so probably about October/November, but don't quote me on that.

So, yeah. Thanks for reading! Chapter 21 of _The Damsel in Distress Diaries _comes out next week. Stay tuned! Home stretch, everybody! Home stretch!


	23. Uncle Dearest

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 21: Uncle Dearest**

Stefan and I were released from our respective prisons on the exact same day, although our mindsets were more than a little different. I was relieved, having had a lifetime's worth of hospital food and invasive (but well meaning) nurses. Stefan, on the other hand, was pissed. And rightly so, might I add.

You could say I didn't exactly agree with Elena and Damon's methods of intervention, even if I knew they were doing it for all the right reasons.

The Council, according to Damon and Sheriff Forbes, who were keeping me up to date on all of the vampire politics in town, was overjoyed that I was being released. Apparently, I had made it out in time to make their next meeting.

Joy.

"You're not really wearing that, are you?" Damon asked as I slid into his car that morning.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I replied, fastening my seat belt on reflex.

He growled softly under his breath, starting the car and backing out of my driveway. Jeremy waved at us from the living room window.

"The leather jacket and heels thing you've got going on here doesn't exactly scream 'helpless victim of a vampire attack'," Damon told me.

I scowled at him, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. He was starting to rub off on me, damn him. "This jacket was my dad's from the 90's."

"I don't care. Take it off."

Arguing with him was pointless. I took off the jacket. "Why do I need to look like a helpless victim, anyway?" I asked as I did so. "Because I'm not. I'm a hunter."

"I know that," Damon bit out, once again like I was a child, "and you know that, and your fuck-up of an uncle knows that, but the _Council _doesn't. And I'd like to keep it that way."

"I really don't think my clothes are going to let them know I'm Buffy- Holy shit. Are you wearing a dress shirt?"

Damon shot me a grin as we rolled up to a stop sign. "Image, Siddie," he purred. "Image."

I was simmering for the rest of the car ride to the Mayor's office, wondering just what the hell Damon had gotten me into. Also wondering why the hell I had agreed. Although, hearing what was coming to destroy me next straight from the horse's mouth, rather than from one of the Salvatore brothers, would be a nice change. Hopefully I wouldn't be getting tortured again any time soon.

The fact that torture was now a possibility I had to be worried about was something I tried very hard to ignore.

Walking into the Council meeting was kind of like my first day back at school after my parents had died. People kept coming up to me and hugging me and telling me how brave I was, although this time it was because I had been kidnapped and tortured, not because my parents had driven our car into the river, killing themselves and almost killing my sister.

Anyway.

Mrs. Lockwood was the worst of them, taking me by the hand and leading me to a chair right next to hers, calling me "sweetheart" and "poor thing" and the whole shabang. Damon was staving off laughter over her shoulder. I glared at him, wishing he weren't my friend so I wouldn't feel guilty about staking him.

Just as I began to wonder what we were waiting on, the door to Mayor Lockwood's office opened one last time.

And Uncle fucking John walked in.

Luckily, my whispered, "God dammit", went unnoticed by everyone but Damon, who was so busy glaring at my uncle that the only acknowledgement he could give me was a shoulder shrugged in my general direction. "John," he bit out. "What are you doing here?"

Uncle John had the gall to smile at him. "The same thing you are, I suspect."

"You two know each other?" Mayor Lockwood intoned, and then frowned, shaking his head before either of them got the chance to speak. "John, we weren't expecting you. When did you get back in town?"

"A week ago," I found myself answering, and then flushed when everyone glanced at me. Damon's glare spoke volumes. _"Stay out of this one, Siddie."_

With a nod and a smile in my direction, Uncle John continued, "I flew in as soon as I heard what had happened to my niece. She needed answers, and I gave them to her."

_Fucking asshole mother fucking dick faced cock sucking- fUCK-!_

Mrs. Lockwood's hand reached down and squeezed my wrist. I sent her a weak grin, even as my free hand twitched toward the stake hidden beneath my sweater. Apparently my murderous tendencies were now applicable to douche-y family members.

After another nod at me, Uncle John pressed forward. "The vampire infestation, as you can all tell, is becoming a serious problem. They're getting bolder, more aggressive towards the members of the Founding Families." As we watched, he drew a pocket knife and a strip of cloth out of his pants pocket, and began to polish the blade.

"We need to exterminate them before they can try something like this again," John stated, all determination. I followed the movement of the cloth: up and down and up and down. "I propose we fight fire with fire."

Sheriff Forbes, God bless the woman, was the only adult in the room who didn't seem to be drinking John's Kool Aid. Eyes narrowed, mouth twisted into an untrustful frown, she said, "And how, exactly, are we going to do that, John?"

This time, there was no mistaking it. John smiled directly at Damon as the cloth swept up the knife one last time. "Have any of you ever heard of something called the Gilbert Device?" he asked.

* * *

"What the hell is the Gilbert Device?"

One hour post anti-vampire rally found me and Damon sitting in Sundays With Susie, a carafe of coffee and a box of donuts sitting on the table between us. Damon was scowling into his mug, body tensed and coiled in on itself, almost like a snake's. He looked as though the slightest movement or wrongly-spoken statement would send him on a rampage. Any sane person would have just left him in silence to stew in his murderous notions. But no one ever said I wasn't hopelessly reckless.

"The Gilbert Device," Damon managed to spit out through his blinding rage, "is another bullshit weapon against bullshit vampires that your bullshit ancestor came up with."

"Okay, one, _you _are a 'bullshit vampire'. And two, I kind of gathered that much," I snapped, taking a deep draw out of my coffee mug to calm myself down. "But it doesn't exactly answer my question of what the hell the damn thing does."

"I can tell you that."

Uncle John was standing over us. If I were a bit more childish, I probably would have fake-jumped a foot out of my seat, spilling scalding hot coffee all over his God damn three-piece suit, but I was a full-fledged hunter now. And full-fledged hunters, unfortunately, didn't partake in such childish bull shit-ery.

Or so I had been told.

Before Damon could bite John's head off, thereby exposing himself to the innocent civilians in the coffee shop, I glared and said, "Why are you here?"

"For you of course," John responded, sliding into the empty, third seat at our table without so much as a by-your-leave. I wondered if he was immune to the beams of hate Damon and I were both astrally projecting his way, right now. "According to Jenna and Jeremy, this is where you can be found, more often than not- That is, if you're not cozying up with the blood suckers at their nest."

I wanted to say "fuck you", but instead I decided to go the round about route and took another sip of my coffee before mumbling, "Hardy, har, har. Can you get to the point?"

John smirked in Damon's direction, not knowing that my hand on the vampire's thigh was the only thing keeping him from leaping across the table and murdering John in cold blood.

"The Device," my uncle explained, "as I'm sure you are already aware, was created by our ancestor, Johnathan Gilbert, for the express purpose of identifying and destroying any and all vampires in Mystic Falls. When activated, it emits a sound undetectable by human ears, but overwhelmingly painful to the monsters-"

"So what?" I interrupted. "It's like a supernatural dog whistle? Big fucking whoop."

John glared at me, and then glanced pointedly in Damon's direction. "If you'll excuse us, I would like to talk to my niece in private."

The way he said "_my __niece_", like he had some sort of claim over me, made my blood boil. Now Damon was the one keeping me from murdering my uncle.

John didn't give a rat's ass about me. He had made that perfectly clear for the past eighteen years, so why was he acting like that had changed all of a sudden now? Was it because I was a hunter? Was it because of Elena? Did he think that if he got me to like him, he could get my sister to like him by osmosis or something?

What a fucking asshole!

"Anything you have to say to her, you can say in front of me," Damon snarled, and then slung his arm over the back of my chair as if to cement the point. John glared at him.

"Well then," he said, and then turned to me.

"I'm not helping you with this," I told him before he could even open his mouth. "I'm not going to help you kill my friends."

He frowned at me. "Would the Salvatores leaving your life really be such a bad thing?"

"Yes," Damon and I answered at the same time.

The only sign of John's disapproval was a slight twitch of his top lip. Otherwise, his facial expression didn't change, and his eyes never wavered from mine. "But you wouldn't have to be scared anymore," he pressed. "No one would try to hurt you or the rest of our family. Elena wouldn't be constantly upset by Stefan, and you wouldn't be dependent on this..." He pointed a hand at Damon. "_Monster._"

My jaw clenched so hard I could feel the bones grinding against each other. "Damon and Stefan aren't the problem with my life," I spat. "Assholes like you are. I'm not helping you. So, in a word, fuck off."

Uncle John tensed, and I thought he was finally going to snap, but instead, he got to his feet and nodded. "I see," he muttered. "In that case, I'll be taking my leave now. I'll see you at the house."

Damon waited long enough for John to leave the restaurant before groaning out, "God, your family is full of fucking assholes!"

I ignored the comment, still staring at the door. "Remind me to never name my son John." Then I remembered. I couldn't have children anymore. Fuck.

Sufficiently glum now, I poured myself another latte and chugged it, letting the scalding heat wash away the bad feelings. "So what do we do?" I asked once I was finished, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "John's going to find the device and he's going to try and kill you."

To my surprise, Damon grinned. "No he won't."

I frowned. "What do you-?"

"Because he's not going to find the device," Damon told me. And then, after a furtive look around the cafe, he pulled a very familiar watch out of his pocket and set it on the table in front of me. "I have it."

* * *

It was past dinner by the time Damon brought me back to the house. We had spent the rest of the day at his place, in an effort for me to avoid John at all cost. But Jenna wouldn't let me sleep over at the Boarding House, saying that if she had to suffer, so did I, so home I went.

By the time I got there, the downstairs was pretty much empty. Jeremy, Elena, and our house guest, Keeley, were all on the second story of the house, presumably having retreated to the safety of their respective bedrooms (Elena was no-doubt going to chew my ass out for "abandoning" her later on), and John and Jenna were both in the kitchen; her cleaning up after a failed attempt at home cooking, him watching her from a seat on a bar stool with a glass of wine. I kind of wanted to punch him when I walked in through the kitchen door and saw the sight.

"Sidney!" Jenna's shoulders visibly uncoiled in relief, and she tossed the soapy dishrag she had been using at my face. "I'm so glad you're home. Since you missed dinner and I've got a migraine, would you mind finishing cleaning up for me? Thanks. You're the best. Love you. Goodnight!"

She said all of this so fast I didn't have time to tell her that _hell no I didn't want to be alone with Uncle fucking John, _and the next thing I knew, she was gone and I was standing alone in the kitchen with nothing but a sopping wet dishrag and my psychopathic uncle.

The tense silence between the two of us was palatable. I swallowed down the lump in the back of my throat and turned to the sink. Luckily, most of the dishes were already done. It was just the sauce pan and the strainer left. Apparently, they had had pasta that night, Elena's favorite.

I tensed when I felt Uncle John's eyes on me. "Did you have fun with your pet vampire?" he asked.

My hand jerked slightly, the only sign I let show of my discontent, and without looking back at him, like I knew he wanted me to, I squirted another pump of dish soap into the sauce pan. "I don't know what you're talking about."

John sighed heavily. "I don't understand," he began to explain, "how you haven't been killed yet. My sources tell me that the two of you have been shacking up for a while now. That he does what you tell him to. But that won't last for much longer, Sidney. Vampires are dangerous, volatile. He will kill you and everyone you love without a second thought."

"You know _nothing_-" I stopped myself, swallowed deeply, and then took a deep breath. "You don't know a damn thing about Damon, or about me. He wouldn't do that-"

"And you don't know a damn thing about vampires!" John's voice rose, finally, the first sign he had ever given me of his discontent with my life. "You're just a little girl who's in far too deep with things she doesn't understand."

I slammed the strainer onto the drying rack perhaps a bit harder than I should have, forcing myself to turn toward him instead of sneaking out of the house and hiding with Damon until he was gone. "I am a _hunter_," I stressed, pointing at the ring on my right middle finger. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself."

John's eyes narrowed. "Prove it."

* * *

What was I doing?

No, really. What the fucking hell was I doing? I'd really like to know.

Maybe the stress of the me-Damon-Katherine-Stefan-Elena situation had finally gotten to my head and caused me to snap. Because there was really no other reasonable explanation for why I had decided to go out on a hunting trip with Uncle _fucking _John to kill the vampires that had tortured me and landed me in the hospital for the past few weeks.

Damon, Carson and Alaric would have gone ballistic if they knew where I was right then.

But if it got Uncle John to back off. If it got him to stop trying to interfere with my sex/social life. If it got him to stop trying to kill Damon. If it got him to leave Elena and Jenna and Alaric alone.

Well, I thought it might be worth my friends' displeasure with me.

And according to the emergency text-versation Anastasia and I were having, she agreed with me, too. So suck it, Damon. He was going to have absolutely no right to get mad at me for this.

Didn't mean it was going to stop him, though, I thought glumly. Damn. I hated when he got mad at me.

I had changed out of my sweater into a plain black t-shirt, a pair of jeans I didn't mind getting covered in blood, and the oversize, previously-owned leather jacket that Damon so despised. But, you know what? An affectionate fuck him. I'm a hunter. I had every right to dress like one.

Seeing the house made something in my stomach twist.

I hadn't known what the outside of it looked like, seeing as I had been, you know, forcefully unconscious on both entry and exit, but I really wasn't thinking it was going to look so... Normal. Like a home any human family could live in for their entire lives. Not like something that could house the same coven of vampires who would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.

If Damon had been with me, I would have stolen a gulp from the flask he always carried around in his jacket pocket. But instead I had creepy Uncle John and the automatic-reload cross bow he was loading with arrows. With a scowl, I slipped the family stake out from the inner pocket of my dad's jacket. John's eyes were drawn to the weapon immediately.

"Your father's stake," he noted. "You managed to inherit it. I'm glad."

I fought off the urge to tell him to go fuck himself, and shrugged instead. "Whatever. Can we just get this over with?"

To my surprise, Uncle John didn't have a reply this time. He just got out of the car and made his way up to the house, before unceremoniously kicking the door down. I watched, a little astonished, as he rushed into the house without further adieu. I fumbled my way out of the car and followed him.

What I got when I walked inside was the exact opposite of what I expected. We weren't being swarmed by vampires. In fact, there only seemed to be three of them, all of which were trying to kill John at the same time.

I went for the man, a tall, dark-skinned vampire in a simple t-shirt and jeans. My stake hooked around his throat, tugging him back and away from my uncle. I was also trying to snap his neck, something that didn't go unnoticed by the smaller of the other two vampires, who screamed and lunged at me.

"Harper!"

That name made me stop short, my grip on the stake slackening enough for him to pull away and lunge at me. As I dodged, I recognized Anna as the vampire who had screamed. Which meant the one my uncle was trying to kill was Anna's mother...

"Uncle John, stop!" I yelled.

He ignored me, and I ducked under a seeking arm, throwing myself back up between Pearl and John. His crossbow edged dangerously close to my face, and I could feel a set of clawed hands inching toward my neck. In the same movement, I snatched the tip of the crossbow and threw myself to the side, ripping it out of his hands and escaping having my throat ripped out by Pearl. When I was steadily back on my feet, I repeated, "Stop it, Uncle John! I know them- they tried to help me!"

Recognition dawned on Harper's face. "Miss Gilbert?"

I nodded at him subtly, but Uncle John's jaw clenched. Without a word, he pulled a knife out of his coat pocket and lunged for Anna, whose back was dangerously exposed to him. Pearl's face twisted in horror, and almost without thought, I threw myself in the path of the blade.

My stake met the dagger's hilt and twisted, causing it to scatter onto the floor. I threw an ankle between John's wide spread legs, tripping him up, and then slammed him face-first into the wall. When I looked over my shoulder, the vampires had escaped.

"Stop it!" I said anyway. "What the hell are you doing? Those aren't the vampires who hurt me!"

John's muscles rippled beneath my hold, his feet scrabbling for purchase so he could pull away from me. I tensed before letting him. In the next second I wished that I hadn't.

He slapped be across the face.

"You are a fool," he fumed, his face having turned a remarkably unattractive shade of red. "A complete _fool _if you think, for one second, that there is any good to be found in those parasites."

I didn't reply, in too much shock.

He had _hit me._

Uncle John had actually, physically _struck me._

"You are going to get our family killed," he continued, unaware of the rage that was slowly building in my gut. Right around the area I had been stabbed, as a matter of fact. "I can only pray your children won't turn out the same way as you. God knows I'll have my hands full then."

That was when I realized something.

John didn't know the full extent of my injuries.

He didn't know I couldn't have children. He still thought I was going to produce the next Gilbert heirs. The next Gilbert hunters.

That was why he was taking such an interest in me all of a sudden. He wanted to pass his beliefs on to me while he still had the chance.

I saw red.

"I suppose it's a good thing, then," I told him coldly, "that I can't _have_ children anymore."

John went pale. "_What_?"

"You heard me, asshole," I continued, upper lip twisting into a semblance of a sneer. "I guess Jenna didn't want to tell you and ruin your dreams of getting to train a new generation of vampire-racist Gilberts, but I can't reproduce anymore. Getting stabbed in the groin and having your uterus torn open kind of ruins your chances at getting pregnant, dip shit."

For a long minute, John said nothing. And then he reached down, picked up his discarded cross bow, and left.

I did the only thing I could think of.

I called Damon.

* * *

"That fucker did _what_?"

You could say that me getting slapped in the face may or may not have royally pissed Damon off.

I sighed and took another sip of my rum and Coke. We were at the Red Robert Pub, a seedy bar just outside of town where the staff didn't ask for ID and no one from the Council and/or school would be caught dead. No one respectable, that is. I normally wouldn't go near the place, but it was four in the morning, The Grille was closed, and Damon and I both needed a drink but didn't want to deal with Stefan's angsty bullshit at the Boarding House. So, here we were.

"The funny thing is," I mumbled, about half-way to drunk out of my mind after four glasses, "I'm not even that upset. Him seeing me as some kind of vampire-slayer-making machine makes sense, sorta." I frowned, bit my lip, and then drained the rest of my glass, smiling dopily at the big-breasted bar tender. I missed having boobs like hers. "Another rum and Coke please, ma'am." I glanced back at Damon, who was far too sober for my tastes. "I mean, I always knew he was an ass-butt, ya know? This just confirms it."

"Ass-butt doesn't even begin to describe that cunt," Damon muttered into his whiskey. He had forgone the glass this time, too pissed off to bother, and had instead compelled the bartender into just handing over an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels. I had been too distraught to bitch at him for the use of vampire-powers on a human.

"I hope the 'cunt' you're referring to is Johnathan Gilbert," an icy voice said from behind us, "because I would hate to catch you talking about me behind my back, Mr. Salvatore."

When I turned, I was a little too sloshed to be surprised to find Pearl standing behind us, looking way too classy for the shit-hole bar we were sitting in. She nodded and forced a smile at me. "Miss Gilbert."

I just kind of shook my head and bit my lip before taking another gulp of rum. Fuck Coke. It was a straight-liquor kind of night.

"I came to thank you, Sidney," Pearl continued, ignoring Damon, who was shooting her all sorts of inappropriate hand gestures in an effort to make her go away. She stared at me with obvious distaste, so I wasn't quite sure how much genuineness was in her apology. "For saving our lives. John would have killed us if you hadn't been there."

"And that would have been _such _a shame," Damon muttered into his bottle. I smacked him for the sarcastic comment, although there wasn't as much force behind the action as there usually was. I was too drunk for that.

"Damon, you're being rude." I pouted at him, he rolled his eyes at me.

Typical.

I bit my lip and turned to Pearl. "It's fine, ma'am," I told her awkwardly, wishing she would just go away. "Harper tried to save my life. It was the least I could do."

"Yes, well." Pearl wiped her hands on her pencil skirt. "Annabelle, Harper and I are leaving town. This is the last you'll ever see of us."

Damon let out a sloppy hoot, attracting the attention of the other bar patrons. "I'll drink to that!" he cried, toasting the bar tender.

"Shut up," I muttered, smacking him and nearly falling off of my bar stool because of it.

Pearl was looking at me like a was a piece of chewed up gum on the bottom of her Jimmy Choo. "So," she said, obviously ready to get the hell out of Dodge, "goodbye. Thank you again."

"Bye," I said, and then hiccuped. The next thing I knew, she was gone. I let out a breath of relief and sagged against the bar, letting my forehead rest against the varnished wood and my eyes close. "Thank God," I slurred, "now I can get back to drowning myself in alcohol."

I squeezed my eyelids closed tighter, in an effort to get the bar to stop spinning around me, and when I opened them, a not at all wanted face was staring down at me in amusement.

"Fuck _off_, Tyler!" I groaned.

The King of Douche himself just grinned at me. "Hey, Sid," he said, obviously just as, if not more, drunk as I was. "Didn't think I'd find you in a place like this."

"You didn't," I told him. "Pretend you never saw me. Go away."

Damon loomed up over my head, all intimidating-vampire like, and Tyler scowled before nodding.

"Yeesh, fine," he growled. "Frigid bitch."

Damon probably would have ripped his head off for that, but I stopped him with a shake of my head. I had seen enough violence for one night.

"Can we leave?" I begged. "Please? Before some other ass walks in and tries to kill my buzz?"

Damon grinned at me, and something warm and firm was suddenly stroking my thigh, sending sparks of pleasure and pain to my injured pelvic area. Oh. It was his hand.

"We can go back to my place," Damon suggested.

I was too tired to do anything like that with him, but I nodded anyway, mostly because I slept better in his bed than in my own. It was probably because his sheets were a higher thread-count than mine, lucky bastard.

With another groan, I got to my feet, swayed, and immediately almost tipped over. Damon caught me and hefted me into his arms, draping my dad's jacket over me like it was a blanket.

"Thanks, D," I muttered into his warm chest. "I can always count on you to take care of me."

I could feel him rolling his eyes. "Don't call me D."

"Whatever you say, D," I chirruped back, snuggling even closer, trying to find his heart beat so that I could listen to it. Oh, wait. He didn't have one.

As we made our way out of the bar, I heard Damon's phone go off. His ringtone was Taylor Swift's _Love Story. _I had programmed it in as a joke on Thanksgiving, only to realize that Damon was so technologically ineffecient that he couldn't figure out how to change it back. I'd made all of our mutual friends promise not to help him with it.

"Damon speaking," he answered, and then listened to the person on the other end for a minute before cursing. "Shit. Thanks, Ric. I'll let her know."

"What happened?" I yawned, still not bothering to open my eyes once he had come up.

Damon sighed heavily. I felt it against my head. "It's Isobel," he admitted. "She wants to talk to Elena."

* * *

**A/N: So, this was kind of a hard chapter to write. Not much happened, but what did is going to be extremely important in the last two chapters of this story. I'm not the best at writing either John or action scenes, which is maybe why this took a little longer than I said it would. Sorry about that. Chapter 22 comes out later this week! Then there's just one more chapter and an epilogue to go, and we're done! Thank you so much for reading, and pretty please leave a review!**

_**Next time:** Isobel offers Keeley a chance at a new life away from vampires and away from Alaric. Mystic Falls is turned into a veritable war zone as four separate groups fight for control of The Gilbert Device. Isobel attempts to use Damon and Sidney's relationship against them, but Anastasia may be able to destroy the Device once and for all, and Sidney and co. are betrayed in the worst way by the most unexpected of people, and the Salvatore brothers might lose their lives because of it._


	24. Playing Keep Away

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 22: Playing Keep Away**

Hanging out with Stefan, I discovered the next afternoon, was not as awkward as I had previously thought. We shared a lot of the same interests: Elena, coffee, travel, depressing photography, killing evil vampires. He was still fun to make fun of, and I wasn't ever going to stop (but now it would be more You're-my-friend making fun and less If-you-hurt-my-sister-I-will- stake-you making fun). Although, at present, our situation left me a bit too tense to make very many sarcastic comments.

Why Elena had agreed to meet Isobel, I would never understand. But then again, the people I had been raised thinking were my parents were, in fact, my biological parents. One more difference between the two of us. I didn't understand, but I wouldn't begrudge her a meeting with her birth-mother just because of my prejudiced views.

Stefan and I were acting as her bodyguards, of course. Although body-guarding seemed to involve staring at her and Isobel from a few tables away, me sipping on a cappuccino and coercing Stefan into using his vampire hearing to spy on them every so often. To his credit, he did so every time.

He was watching me slurp down my drink right then, eyes crinkling in amusement.

"What's so funny?" I asked warily, wiping foam off of my upper lip.

"I just never thought I would ever find anyone who was more addicted to coffee than I am," he answered back truthfully.

I rolled my eyes at him, even as I bit my lip and set my cup down purposefully. "Well," I said, "some of us aren't vampires who don't need caffeine to function. You drink coffee for the taste, I drink it for survival."

Stefan just grinned at me some more, before his attention drifted back to Elena and Isobel. I followed his gaze, frowning when Elena tensed at something Isobel had said to her.

"What are they talking about?" I asked for the umpteenth time in the half-hour we had been sitting there for.

Stefan just shrugged and then narrowed his eyes. Did some vampires need glasses? "She's trying to convince Elena to leave Mystic Falls with her so I won't turn her into a vampire," he explained, fists clenching where they sat on the table. "But that's not going to happen. Elena hates Isobel and she never wants to become a vampire."

"Hear, hear," I chimed glumly, not looking at him, waving at Keeley instead. The other girl's hands were occupied with a tray of drinks, so she couldn't wave back. She did smile at me, though. I noticed she intentionally stayed away from the section Isobel and Elena were sitting in.

That was right around the time Elena went so pale I thought she was going to faint.

"Dammit," Stefan said before I could ask, the first time I had ever heard him curse.

I watched Elena jump straight out of her seat and all but sprint over to us, eyes fixed on mine the entire time. Stefan leaped up and caught her when she reached us. I stood, too.

"Elena," I said, understandably very curious as to why she was acting like she had just seen a ghost, "what's wrong?"

"Isobel knows that Damon has the Device," Elena gasped, looking very, very scared. "She threatened to kill you, Jeremy, and Jenna unless I give it to her."

* * *

Keeley was tired to her core by the time her shift ended that night. She smelled like flatbread pizza and iced tea, too, which she detested. The Grille was a great place to work, since everyone in Mystic Falls tipped like crazy and tended not to care about expensive menu items, which meant her salary was relatively high, too. Plus, it didn't hurt that most of the patrons and workers were people she knew and liked to talk to. That didn't make the job any less exhausting, however.

By the time she had clocked out for the night, untied her apron, declared her tips, and pulled a forest green sweater on over her t-shirt, Keeley felt like she was going to drop dead on the spot.

Matt Donovan watched her warily as the two walked into the employee parking lot together. "Are you sure I can't give you a ride home, Keeley?" he asked. "Care will kill me if something happens to you on my watch."

Keeley managed a smile and shook her head. "Naw, I'll be fine, Matt. Sidney's picking me up at the book store on the corner. Thanks for the concern, though."

"At least let me drive you over there," he pressed.

"You'll be wasting gas," Keeley told him. "Really, I'm fine. It's a short walk, and we're in Mystic Falls for chrissake. What's going to happen to me here?"

_Barring vampire attacks, of course, _she amended in her mind.

Matt eyed her uncertainly. "If you're sure," he ventured, even as he pulled his car keys out of his coat pocket.

Keeley nodded. "I'm sure. Night, Matt. Thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess," Matt said warily.

She acknowledged his reply with a grin and started walking, feet groaning in protest from a night spent dashing around the restaurant. Her calves were sore, too.

Honestly, Keeley thought, work was a better work out than cheer practice, sometimes. Although she would be sure not to tell that to Caroline, whose solution would probably be to just make cheer practice even more difficult to make up for it.

The town center was still fairly crowded when Keeley began to make her way down to the book store at the end of the street. That was a bit unusual for eleven thirty on a Sunday night in Mystic Falls, but hey, Keeley would take what she could get.

She wasn't so keen on getting attacked by another vampire, and the more crowded the street, the less likely that was going to happen.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to deter vampire attacks of the emotional nature.

Keeley's dead mother stepped out in front of her.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

Isobel just stared at her, amazement written plainly across her face. She reached out a hand tentatively, as if to stroke Keeley's hair, and then second guessed herself before lowering it. "Keeley, you've gotten so big," she breathed, looking as if she was about to cry.

Keeley would admit it: She was hurt that her mom had waited this long to come to her. Was almost destroyed by the fact that Isobel had chosen life as an undead parasite over life with her husband and daughter. Was bitter about the fact that she and Alaric had been left to virtually fend for themselves for the last twelve years.

So she snapped, "Yeah. That's kind of what happens to kids when they grow up. They get big. Of course, you wouldn't know this, having abandoned yours, and all."

Keeley wanted to give herself a high-five for that one. Caroline would have been proud of how scathing it was.

Isobel seemed to hesitate for a moment, before squaring her shoulders. "That's why I'm here, darling," she breached, and the familiar pet name made something in Keeley's stomach twist painfully. "I want you to come with me when I leave this town."

"Fat fucking chance," Keeley spat immediately. Somewhere in the back of her head, she mentally deposited a quarter into the swear jar. "I won't leave my dad. I won't abandon him like you did."

Isobel's face twisted, and for the first time, she truly resembled the monster she was, not the beautiful mother Keeley had known once upon a time. "Don't talk about your father like that when you aren't even living with him. You were so desperate to get away from him and his vampires that you moved in with the _Gilberts, _of all people."

"Yeah, well, Elena just so happens to be my half-sister, and she offered," Keeley shot back. "So there." If she intentionally left out her and Alaric's current issues, neither of them mentioned it.

"_Elena,_" Isobel seethed, "was a mistake. _You _were not."

Keeley wanted to bring up the fact that she was the result of a one-night stand gone wrong, but wisely thought better of it. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, poor defense against the January cold, and said, "I'm not coming with you. I will never come with you. You abandoned me, and now you're going to have to live with the consequences. Goodbye, Mom."

Before Isobel could say another word, Keeley shouldered past her and hurried down the street to where she knew Sidney's car was parked, fighting off tears as she went.

"I won't be able to save you from what's coming!" Isobel's voice called after her. "You don't understand how much danger you're going to be in!"

A choked off sob was Keeley's only reply. She managed to fend off a meltdown long enough to survive the car ride with Sidney, who she thought was super cool and also super intimidating, but lost it once she was in the comfort of her guest bedroom.

Keeley couldn't help it.

She called her dad.

By the time they got off the phone, the Saltzmans were a functioning family unit once again.

* * *

To say that Damon was upset someone was openly threatening me and my family was an understatement.

To say that he was royally fucking pissed off was another understatement.

And to say that I was relieved to be back in school and away from his frankly mother hen-like hovering was a bald-faced lie.

I would take Damon locking me in the Boarding House for my own protection any day of the week over _this _hell.

It was the first day back after winter break, and my least favorite time of the year. It was _parade _season, that one week stretch where everyone was so preoccupied with getting ready for Founders' Day that literally everything else took a back seat to float building. My Algebra 2 teacher even went so far as to cancel classes so that we would have more time to help. True, I hated math, but that didn't mean I wanted to spend that hour making paper mache pumpkins instead of graphing logarithms.

I still couldn't figure out which activity was worse.

Luckily, I had Anastasia around to bitch with me.

"I still can't figure out which dress I should wear," she was saying at the moment. "The blue one or the checkered one."

I bit my lip, busy trying to attach a glue-y strip of newspaper to a piece of chicken coop. "I dunno, man," I told her. "Didn't you wear the blue one last year?"

Anastasia frowned and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose before handing me another strip of paper. "Yeah, but the checker-print one is _yellow._"

"Go with the blue," I told her immediately.

Unfortunately enough, my mother had managed to strong arm the both of us into competing in the Miss Mystic Falls competition last year. But to everyone's surprise, we had both somehow placed, me coming in third and Anastasia in second, despite performing terribly. I suspected it had something to do with my last name and Anastasia's pretty blue eyes. Either way, because of that unfortunate occurrence, we were now forced to participate in the Antebellum dress-up part of the parade for two years in a row now, although I hoped we wouldn't have to stand on the float this time.

"Have you figured out what you'll be wearing yet?" Anastasia asked.

I shrugged. "I've got it narrowed down to three," I admitted. "There's the lilac one from last year, the red one Elena loaned me from the bunch Stefan gave her, and the white one Jenna got from the costume store."

Anastasia's brow wrinkled in consideration. "The white one is _sparkly_," she mused. "And you hate sparkles."

I nodded, mentally crossing it off of the list of possibilities. "True, true. Go on."

"And you've already worn the lilac one."

"Yeah, but it's comfy!" I wined, mostly because the dress was pretty comfortable. It was also loose enough to where I could go corset-less and no one would notice.

"You can't wear the same dress two years in a row!"

I knew Anastasia was right, and I knew the red dress looked much better on me than the lilac one did, but there was just one problem...

I didn't know who the previous owner was. And the fact that Stefan had held onto it for all this time led me to believe that it may have belonged to Katherine.

Giving Damon another reason to compare me to the psychotic bitch was the last thing I wanted.

Our conversation was interrupted then by Caroline, who bounced over so we could congratulate her on winning the pageant and to not-so-subtly remind me that I had promised to play the Mina to her Lucy in the school musical that spring and if I backed out so help me God she was going to make sure I could never show my face in this town again.

Well, maybe not in those exact words. She said it with a lot more smiling and hair flipping and niceties than that, but the sentiment was still there.

A shudder went down my spine as she flounced away from us.

"That girl," I told Anastasia, "is more terrifying than any vampire I've ever met."

Anastasia's face was screwed up uncomfortably. "Yeah," she admitted reluctantly, "but you've got to admit it. She's kind of awesome."

I nodded, getting to my feet. My knees popped audibly, a sign I had been kneeling for too long.

"Ugh!" I groaned. "I would kill for a hot shower right now. I haven't been able to take one over five minutes for the last week."

"Why?" Anastasia asked, following me toward my locker, so I could retrieve my sack lunch. "Is it because of the Isobel thing?"

I nodded again, spinning the dial and pulling out my paper bag. "Yeah," I replied. "Damon's acting like a fucking cave man about it. I swear, next thing you know he'll be throwing me over his shoulder and tying me to his bed."

_Not like that would be a bad thing_, I thought privately, picturing all of the fun times that could come from that particular situation. I shook my head, forcefully reminded of the current state of my lady parts and the skin surrounding said lady parts. _Bad, Sidney!_

Anastasia giggled at the image, leaning against my now-closed locker. "You should let me take a look at the Device," she said, tugging on the hem of her sweater. "I might be able to take the spell off- with some help from Bonnie, of course."

I bit my lip uncertainly. "Really?" I said. "Because if you could actually pull that off, you might just be saving my ass."

Sure enough, after school that day, I told Elena to hitch a ride with Bonnie, herded Anastasia into my Toyota, and drove both of us to the Boarding House. I didn't even bother knocking at this point. The mansion was practically a second home to me by now. Anastasia didn't seem to share my sentiments, though, telling me she preferred to stay in the car. I didn't push her, knowing that she was still scared of the Salvatores.

"Hey, asshole," I said, upon finding Damon in his usual chair in the living room. "Can Anastasia take a look at the Gilbert Device?"

He didn't even look, already knowing it was me, and instead flipped to the next page of whatever book he was reading. "Why?"

"She thinks she and Bonnie might be able to take the spell off of it."

I vaulted over the back of the couch to splay across it unceremoniously, trying to catch the title of his novel. It seemed to be in French, and unfortunately enough, I had chosen to take German. Damn.

Damon glared at me for my treatment of his furniture. "What have I told you about the leather couches?"

I just rolled my eyes at him, chewing methodically on my lower lip. "_So_?" I pressed. "Will you let her and Bonnie come over to take a look at the thing?"

Damon studied me for a moment, bending the page he was on over to mark it and setting the book aside. I felt my skin begin to flush from the heat of his gaze, and a few minutes passed before he seemed to come to a conclusion.

He nodded and got to his feet. "I'll do one better than that," he told me. I blinked, and he had disappeared, but he was back the next minute and holding the Gilbert Device out to me like it was an engagement ring. I stared at him in disbelief.

"Here," he told me. "You can take it."

Damon swallowed, and his next words did not seem to come out very easily.

"I trust you, Siddie."

* * *

Watching my best friend undo another witch's spell was both the coolest and scariest thing I had ever seen, second only to a certain blue-eyed vampire's "special little friend".

Okay, cheap joke. I'll admit it. But we all knew the Salva-penis comments were coming at some point.

Anyway.

Bonnie, much to my surprise, was more than happy to help us take the spell off of the Device. According to Anastasia, since she couldn't actually manipulate raw magic, she needed Bonnie, a witch of Bennett blood, to do it for her while she read off the spell and lit the incense candles, "summoning the spirit of the noble servants of nature who walked before us" or some shit like that.

It was kind of creepy, but also pretty cool.

I slept more easily that night than I had in weeks, content in the knowledge that all of our problems were seemingly fixed. Now that the Device sitting innocently on my nightstand had no power at all, and now that John had been booted out of the house after Jenna had seen what he had done to my face, things would go back to normal.

Normal being a relative term, of course. Damon and Stefan weren't leaving anytime soon, I was sure, although we all had a sneaking suspicion that the tomb vampires who had tortured me were still lurking around town somewhere.

Whatever. We'd cross that bridge when we came to it.

The next morning, however, I began to feel like the sky was crashing down again.

"I know that you have the Gilbert Device," Isobel's voice said on the other end of the phone. "And I want you to know that I have your brother."

Probably, I shouldn't have picked up a call from a number I didn't recognize.

Probably, I was an idiot.

Probably, I didn't fucking care.

My stomach twisted like it had when there was a stake embedded in it, and I clutched the phone closer to my ear, praying that my face showed none of the horror that I was feeling. Jenna was sitting in the living room, far enough away that she couldn't hear what I was saying in the kitchen, but observant enough to be able to tell that something was wrong if she stared at me too closely.

"I don't have the Device," I hissed into the phone, fully aware that the vampire probably knew I was lying to her.

Isobel just laughed at me, confirming my fears. "Meet me at noon today in town park. And don't bring the Salvatores. Your brother dies if you do. I'll see you there, Sidney."

And then she hung up on me.

So. It was right back to being fucked again, apparently.

* * *

My hands were shaking so hard on my way to meet Isobel that I could barely keep a hold of the steering wheel. My heart was pounding so bad when I got out of the car that I thought everyone in the park could hear it. My entire body was tensed around the Device in my coat pocket to the point where the metal of the clasp was digging into my hip through three layers of thick fabric.

I was about to betray Damon's trust, I thought as I began to walk toward the familiar figure sitting on one of the park benches. The trust I had fought so hard for.

He was going to hate me. He was going to never speak to me again. I was going to be nothing more to him than just one more name on the long list of people in his life who had let him down.

But _Jeremy..._

I couldn't risk my little brother.

"Sidney," Isobel nodded as I shakily took a seat next to her. "You came. I'm glad."

"Yeah," I replied, searching for a comment I could make that wouldn't get Jeremy's head separated from his body, "well, shut up and tell me where my brother is."

Isobel sighed heavily, eyes raised to the cloudy January sky, and for the first time, I could kind of see how she had been a mother once upon a time. "Your brother is perfectly safe. For now. Do you have the device?"

I shook my head methodically. "No. Nuh uh." I frowned at her and said, "You don't get the Device until I get Jeremy."

Another sigh. Isobel pulled out her cellphone, scrolled through her contacts, and dialed the number. Whoever it was picked up after three rings.

"Did you do it?" she asked. A couple of seconds later she handed me the phone.

_"Sidney?"_ my brother's voice said.

I almost burst into tears on the spot. "Yeah," I got out around the lump in my throat. "Yeah, Jer. It's me. Are you alright? Where are you?"

_"I'm at home,"_ was Jeremy's answer, and my shoulders sagged in relief. _"One of Isobel's thralls is still here, though."_ He paused for a second, and then said,_ "Sidney, did Damon really give you the device?"_

"Yes," I whispered, and then noticed Isobel's impatient stare. "Look, Jer. I gotta go. But I love you, and I'm so, so sorry you got dragged into this."

I ended the call and gave Isobel her phone back. She stared at me expectantly. "Well?"

My hand went to the Device in my pocket, and my fingers clenched around it, uncertain. I gauged the distance from the bench to the car. It was close enough to where I could make it if I sprinted, and the park was crowded enough that Isobel couldn't use vampire-speed without revealing herself. And, I reminded myself, the Device wasn't even enchanted anymore. It wouldn't matter if Isobel got a hold of it, regardless.

And Jeremy had said Isobel's thrall was still with him...

Reluctantly, I handed over the Device.

Isobel tucked it into her purse and got to her feet. "It's a pleasure doing business with you," she remarked triumphantly, then hesitated and stared at me for a moment. I shifted uncomfortably, a heavy weight in my stomach.

"You know something," Isobel mused, "I had a feeling that Damon would hand the Device over to you."

"Oh, really. Why's that?" I asked, not really caring either way.

"Because he's in love with you."

* * *

I had never called a meeting of our so-called "Scooby Doo gang" before, and everyone seemed to be nervous about it when we met at the Boarding House that evening. Carson and Alaric, as per usual, were the ones standing closest to the exits, Alaric oiling the trigger of his cross bow and Carson sharpening a hunting knife with a portable whetstone. He grinned at me when I walked through the front door, and I weakly tried to return it. Elena and Stefan were squeezed together on the love seat, Damon was in his arm chair, and Anastasia, Bonnie, and Keeley, newly reunited with her dad, had taken seats on the couch.

I stood awkwardly before the fireplace and stared at all of them. These people who respected me, trusted me, were about to blow up at me in the worst way possible, and I felt like the shittiest person alive because of it.

"I gave Isobel the Gilbert Device," I finally forced out.

There was a beat, and then Alaric was the first one to react.

"_What?_" he demanded, and I wasn't sure if him pointing the cross bow in my direction was a coincidence or not. "_Why_?"

Damon scowled, eyes cold, and got to his feet, but before he could say a word, I explained: "She was holding Jeremy hostage. I didn't know what else to do."

That stopped all of them in their tracks. Alaric paused, stared at me for a moment, and then nodded and resumed leaning against the wall, his crossbow aimed firmly away from me. Elena sucked in a breath, looking like she was about to cry, and Stefan slung a comforting arm over her shoulder. Carson and Anastasia were staring at me with understanding, Keeley seemed confused (I remembered suddenly that we had never explained to her what the Gilbert Device was), and Damon... Damon stayed rooted to the spot, but his eyes had softened and he wasn't scowling at me anymore.

Bonnie was the one who spoke first, though.

"Then there's nothing for it," she said firmly. "Jeremy is more important than some dumb weapon. And besides, it doesn't even work anymore. Remember?"

The reminder seemed to strike all of us, and my shoulders weren't the only ones that slumped in relief. Sufficiently exhausted now, I dropped onto the couch between Anastasia and Keeley, feeling like I was about to cry.

"Thanks, Bonnie," I rasped, and she nodded at me.

The meeting dissolved after that. Carson was the first to leave, saying that he had papers to grade, and Bonnie followed soon after to go visit her Grams. Keeley had to work at The Grille that night, so Alaric drove her after talking with Damon for a few minutes. Anastasia was next, seeing as she needed to practice a piece for her upcoming recital, and Stefan and Elena migrated to Stefan's room an hour later.

Then it was just me and Damon.

For the first time ever, neither of us knew what to say.

"You gave her the Device," he finally told me, voice hollow with disbelief.

I wanted to cry again. "What else was I supposed to do, Damon?" I asked, and I was so, so tired. "Let her kill my little brother?"

"You chose your brother over me," Damon stated again, but for some odd reason, he didn't seem to be upset, more confused than anything.

"He's my _brother_, Damon."

Damon didn't kick me out, and he didn't explode at me, but he didn't say a word to me for the rest of the night, either.

* * *

I didn't _think _Damon was mad at me, but then again, he had been acting so weird lately that I couldn't really be sure. We weren't hanging out as much as usual, but I was so busy with parade stuff and trying to turn in all the homework I had missed while in the hospital that that was understandable. He was more thoughtful than usual, too, but it wasn't his murderous scheming thoughtful mood; it was more... Gentle, I guess. If that makes sense.

Two days before the Founders' Day parade found Elena and I in the vintage shop off of Main Street, searching for accessories for our respective dresses. I had also been instructed to pick up a pair of lace gloves for Anastasia, who was so preoccupied with recital preparations that she hadn't been able to come herself.

I had finally settled on the red dress on loan from Stefan. I mean, hey, maybe Katherine had owned it before me, but it was pretty and my post-reduction boobs made last year's dress sag in all the wrong places. So, you know, it wasn't like I really had a choice anymore.

Elena had settled on a pretty yellow and green dress with floral detailing. Another one Stefan had loaned out, although she had it on good authority that it had belonged to his and Damon's mother. Not Katherine.

Luckily, antique-ing didn't take as long as we had thought it would. I found Anastasia's gloves relatively quickly, along with a netted, finger-less, black pair for myself, and Elena decided to pair her dress with a pale green sash and roses in her hair. I found a silky choker that I liked, too, along with a black lace parasol that I may or may not end up using. Both of us had decided to wear sneakers under our dresses, despite the fact that Mrs. Lockwood and/or Caroline would murder us if they found out.

Uncle John confronted us as we stepped out of the store.

"Sidney, Elena," he said, acknowledging each of us with a nod of his head.

"Douche bag," I replied. "Didn't Jenna tell you to stay away from us or she would press charges for attacking me?"

Studiously ignoring that comment, John continued; "I wanted to thank you, Sidney. You've been a great help."

My skin crawled at that, and Elena and I exchanged a nervous glance.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

John just smiled at her and pulled something gold, shiny, and painfully familiar out of his coat pocket. "Well, you did give me the Gilbert Device, after all."

And then, like the fucking asshole he is, he pocketed the Device, grinned at us, and walked away.

Elena turned on me in the next instant. "Why is he acting like the Device still works?"

"I don't know," I replied dumbly, staring after Uncle John's retreating back.

Elena and I gathered our bags and made our way back to my car, where I opened my phone and dialed Anastasia's number.

"Are you sure you took the spell off of the Gilbert Device?" I demanded the moment I heard her pick up.

_"Yes," _came the uncertain reply. _"At least, I know I did on my end. Bonnie's the one who was supplying the magic. I just said the words. Why?"_

"Because my uncle seems to think the damn thing still works."

There was silence for a few minutes, and I knew Anastasia was thinking hard. _"Meet me at Bonnie's house,"_ she finally said before hanging up on me.

We made it to Bonnie's house in time to see the last of the sunset over the top of her roof. Anastasia pulled in behind us a few minutes later, and together, the three of us knocked on the front door. Mr. Bennett opened it before ushering us up to Bonnie's room.

She was sitting at her desk chair, working on homework, but stopped short when we walked in. I could see in her eyes that she knew what we were here for.

"Bonnie," Anastasia bridged hesitantly, "did- Are you- Um... Are you sure we took the spell off of the Gilbert Device correctly?"

Bonnie stared at us for a minute. She set down her pencil finally and closed her binder. "No," she replied softly, "we didn't."

"And you would know that _how?" _I butted in. Anastasia had always had more tact than me.

Bonnie hesitated, and then looked straight at Elena before saying, "I messed the ritual up on purpose, alright?"

I could hear Elena's breath get caught in her throat, and almost automatically, my hand reached for hers. She squeezed it in thanks, eyes not leaving Bonnie's.

"I'm going to give you five seconds," Elena whispered, and I could hear the resignation in her voice, "to tell me why you did this, Bonnie."

And Bonnie told us:

"I want Damon and Stefan dead," she said, and her eyes drifted over to lock with mine for a moment. "There, I said it. They're ruining all of our lives! If they were gone, we wouldn't be in danger all the time and we wouldn't have to be so afraid anymore-"

"Stefan is the love of my life!" Elena bellowed, face bright red, like it got when she was really, really angry. "I don't want him _dead_!"

"Well, I do!" Bonnie screamed back. "You're so blinded by him that you can't see what he's done to you."

Elena recoiled like she had been hit, and I was suddenly reminded of what Uncle John had told me when trying to get me to help him.

"I will never forgive you for this, Bonnie," Elena choked out, before turning on her heel and pulling me and Anastasia from the room.

As we stumbled back into my car, and I shifted into reverse, I wondered just what I had started.

* * *

**A/N: So, I realized that I wasn't replying to every single review like I should have been, something that I really tried to fix last chapter. Here are all of the replies to the guest reviews. Thank you so much for reading, and feel free to comment! The next chapter should be the last one in this installment of the trilogy!**

**Guest: Um... I need to think this one through. That's a hard one. I see Sidney as a cross between Lily Collins and Crystal Reed, but with freckles, lighter coloring, and a softer build.**


	25. Wild Fire

**The Damsel in Distress Diaries**  
**Chapter 23: Wild Fire**

Hoop skirts, I discovered Founders' Day morning, as Anastasia and I helped each other get dressed, were remarkably handy for storing and concealing vampire-killing weapons. I could probably have fit a crossbow up under mine, if I wanted to- which I didn't. Instead, I managed to fit three stakes and a hand gun loaded with wooden bullets, plus another round of said wooden bullets if I somehow managed to run out.

What? You could never say I wasn't prepared.

You could, however, say that I was nervous and overly-paranoid. Because that was true.

John had the Device. John had the Device, the Device that still _worked, _and it was completely my fault.

"Whatever's going to happen will happen at the parade," Anastasia was insisting as she helped me pin up my hair. "I know it will!"

I frowned and bit my lip. She kept saying stuff like that, and I knew she had good reason to, but I wasn't so sure. I hadn't heard a word from the Council about John's plans for the Device, and if Damon had, he hadn't told me about it.

The reminder of our estrangement sobered me, and I had a scowl stuck firmly in place as Anastasia drove us to the high school, where the parade floats and float-operators were supposed to meet before the parade began. Unfortunately, Anastasia and I had been notified by Mrs. Lockwood that we _would, _in fact, be obligated to ride the float with this year's Miss Mystic Falls winners. So yeah, it royally fucking sucked. Parade floats made me sweat because of the sun and shiver because of the January cold.

I was _not _looking forward to this.

In all actuality, it didn't turn out to be as bad as I remembered it being. This is probably because the parade didn't last as long as it did last year. We only did one loop around town square this time, and it was overcast while we did, so I didn't have to break my parasol out at any point, although I was shivering in my petticoats. I could hear Anastasia's teeth chattering whenever she brushed by me.

The parade hooplah was over and done with by two, thank God, although we weren't allowed to change back into our normal clothes until sundown so people could take pictures with us if they wanted to. Caroline was very happy about this. Anastasia and I were not.

"I swear to God," I mumbled underneath my breath, picking at my netted gloves, "that if one more little girl asks me if I am a Disney princess, I am going to lose it!"

Anastasia wrinkled her nose at me and rubbed at her eyes. She had to wear contacts that day, something that I knew she hated. She always complained about how dry they made her eyes feel. "There's the child-hating Sidney I know and love," she murmured.

"Shu-ut _up._"

"Look, it's already-" Anastasia snuck a look at the phone she had hidden in the folds of her dress- "two-thirty. Just half an hour before the meet and greet is over and then we can go hide at Sundays with Susie or something, alright?"

I grinned at her, splaying a hand over my heart. "You know me well."

"So, do I have competition now, or are you two just a friends with benefits kind of deal?"

I didn't even have to turn to know who it was. "Damon," I drawled, "my answer to that obviously rhetorical question is an affectionate but firm: 'fuck you'."

"In the ass?" Damon elaborated.

"Yes, in the ass."

"With a dildo-"

"Damon, there's children!" I cried, whirling on him, cheeks red.

"That's never stopped you before," he said with a grin, eyes fixed on mine before drifting downwards. The grin slowly disappeared. "Oh," he muttered. "I'm guessing the Stef-meister loaned you that dress."

"Yeah," I said and braced for more Katherine-based comments.

Anastasia glanced between the two of us before coloring. "I'm gonna..." She stumbled over her own words and picked up the hem of her dress. "Yeah, um, bye!" And then she was gone.

_Some friend you are._

Damon stared at me for a moment longer, and I coughed in an effort to diffuse some of the awkward. I didn't look much like Katherine, I knew, since I didn't look much like Elena, and I was kind of hoping that this dress hadn't had much significance so that he wouldn't know who it originally belonged to if and when he ever saw me in it-

"You look beautiful, Siddie."

_Wait, what?_

I blinked at him in shock and then bit my lip, lacing my hands together behind my back. "Oh," I said. "I-err- thanks, I guess?"

Beautiful was not usually a term people used to describe me. My mom had been the only one, ever, really. To my dad and Jer and Elena and Jenna it was pretty, to boys hot, and to friends, smoking hot. But not beautiful. Never beautiful, really.

"I, um..." I trailed off, wanting to run and hide. Why was it so hard to talk to him? I never had this much trouble with Damon. What had changed? "I had kind of been hoping you wouldn't mind, because I had a feeling it belonged to- you know, _Her_\- and I didn't want to bring up any bad memories or anything for you-"

Damon raised an eyebrow at me. "I thought I gave you the whole tragic-backstory spiel before this, Siddie. Why would you wearing my mother's dress bring up bad memories for me?"

My heart fell into my stomach before jumping back up again. Oh.

Oh! It was his _mother's _dress, not _Katherine's. _

"Did you think it belonged to-?" Damon stopped himself before he could say her name, and then forced a smirk at me. "If it makes you feel any better, I think you're much more beautiful than she ever was."

I scoffed at him. "Oh, really?" I said. "Have you seen Elena today? I'm nothing compared to her-"

"You're worth a million of Elena," Damon snarled, and somehow, I didn't think we were talking about my sister anymore. I blushed. Hard.

We stared at each other for a few more seconds, and then something in Damon's eyes hardened. I felt his hand take mine and squeeze it. My shoulders tensed in expectation. Something told me I wasn't going to like what he was about to tell me.

"Siddie," he breached, "we... You-" He shook his head firmly. "_I _have been thinking a lot this week, and-"

"Really, Sidney? Really?"

Oh, shit.

Caroline.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she hissed out around clenched teeth, then stormed out of the high school gym before I could answer. With a look over my shoulder at Damon's annoyed face, I followed.

"What the hell are you doing with him?" she demanded the moment we had reached the secluded water fountain alcove in front of the locker rooms. "Do you not remember what he did to me?"

Something icy and sickening dropped into my stomach beneath the corset, and I shifted in my sneakers. "No- No I _do, _Caroline, but I-"

"But you what?" she asked impatiently.

"Well, he's- he's _changed,_" I insisted, biting down on my lower lip so hard I tasted blood. "What he did to you was so, so wrong- and you didn't deserve any of it, I promise- but he's really a different person now. He-"

Caroline looked like she was about to cry. I hated myself a little bit in that moment.

"You-you-" She shook her head, mouth pinching into a thin line, and turned on her heel before marching away.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. I needed to go give some semblance of an explanation to Caroline, less I lose her friendship forever, but Damon- _Damon was about to tell me something. _And the thing is, I knew exactly what that something was. I knew what he was about to tell me, knew what the repercussions would be, knew what he had somehow manipulated himself into believing-

And I couldn't. I couldn't let him do that to himself- do that to me.

I picked up the hem of my skirt and ran after Caroline.

* * *

Mystic Falls was a weird town.

The infrastructure was much the same as any other small town; teenagers went to school on weekdays and drank stolen beer in the woods on weekends, every adult either worked with every other adult or had gone to high school with them, the mayors for the last three centuries had all had the same last name and political party, and the town's history, no matter how boring, had been engraved in every citizen's mind since they were five years old.

But then there were the differences Mystic Falls were known for.

Underage drinking was practically encouraged. That was a big one. As long as you had some semblance of a good fake ID, the bartenders would serve you, even if they knew you weren't twenty-one or older. Champagne was served to teenagers at dinner parties and town events, and teachers didn't care if you took a flask with you to a football game.

That wasn't the only thing encouraged in the teenagers, tough. There was the town hierarchy, as well.

It went like this: the Founding Families were always on top, closely followed by the other last names that had been in the town since the beginning, and everyone else was beneath them.

Caroline was lucky enough to have been born a Forbes, and unlucky enough to not have been born a Gilbert.

This, it seemed, included a lifetime of invites to every single town event, every single year, and then nights spent appealing herself to the Founding Families whose children either worshiped the ground she walked on or spent Friday nights at her house with Nicholas Sparks movies and scathing gossip. Caroline had fought for her place on the cheer squad, had fought for the "most popular girl in school" bit, had fought for junior class president, and had fought for pageant queen and won.

She was Miss _fucking _Mystic Falls, and she deserved it.

And now she was hiding on the abandoned playground behind town hall like the nine year old who couldn't understand why her daddy wasn't going to be living with her anymore.

This was where Keeley found her.

Caroline still wasn't sure what to make of the other girl. New students were a dime a dozen at Mystic Falls High, and two within the same semester hadn't happened since the fifth grade, when Abigail and Daniel Varger transferred in from Texas and then transferred back just as quickly. Stefan Salvatore had already been claimed by Elena Gilbert's big brown eyes and Matt Donovan's friend group of sweaty football players and backhanded compliments, and after the fiasco that was Damon-the-Douche-Bag, Caroline had pretty much called it quits with newcomers.

And then Keeley had come. Sweet, pretty, leggy Keeley, with a mind that ran a mile a minute and a perfect triple back handspring. Caroline had leaped at the opportunity to claim the new girl for her friend group, but hadn't had the slightest idea what she was getting herself into.

But Keeley... Keeley was an all or nothing kind of friend, Caroline had discovered. You were either unerringly close with her, or you barely knew her at all. And if you fell into the first group, she would do almost anything for you. Caroline had never really had a friend like that before, and she wasn't really sure how to act around one.

Bonnie had Elena, Matt had Elena, Stefan had Elena, and now Damon apparently had Elena's older sister.

Caroline had never been someone's first choice before. But now, she was quickly learning, she was Keeley's.

"Hey," Keeley said once she had spotted her. "Whatcha doing out here? I couldn't find you at the gym and Miss Lockwood and Sidney were freaking out."

Caroline stiffened from her spot on the swing, before "humph"-ing and resuming her movements. "Let me guess," she said snidely, "Damon and Sidney are looking for me together?"

"Yeah," Keeley answered cluelessly, and Caroline realized suddenly that the other girl hadn't been around when Salva-Forbes was a thing. "But they're always together." She frowned, pale nose wrinkling, and took a seat on the swing to Caroline's right. "Did something happen? I didn't think you'd want to miss your meet-and-greet, Miss Mystic."

Caroline flinched, and then barreled forward, ignoring the blatant use of her new title. "Did everyone know Sidney and Damon were dating but me?"

How was that possible? Caroline knew everything about everyone in Mystic Falls- although, she had been doing a damn good job at pretending Damon didn't exist anymore, which may have explained why she had been so clueless.

Keeley frowned again, and the look in her eyes told Caroline she knew she was hiding something, but Keeley continued anyway: "Well, they're not really dating, but it's kind of obvious there's something going on between the two of them. On Damon's end, anyway. I'm not so sure about Sidney."

"Ugh! What _is _it with Gilbert girls?" Caroline groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. "Are they like catnip for Salvatores, or something?"

Keeley just shrugged, still looking very confused. "I guess," she said softly, then glanced at Caroline from the periphery of her vision. "Did, um- Did something happen between you and Damon?" she ventured.

And Caroline just snapped.

It came pouring out; all of it. How inferior she felt compared to Elena, how everyone she had ever tried to impress had chosen Elena, not her; Bonnie, Matt, Stefan, Damon, Mrs. Lockwood, even her own mother, at times. How Damon had treated her when they had been "dating", and how desperately she had tried to impress him afterwards. How he had called her shallow and useless, and how those words had stuck with her for months afterward. How Sidney had stood up for her more than almost anyone else in her life, had listened with poorly-concealed rage as Caroline had explained what Damon had done to her, how Sidney had been the one to confront Damon anytime he had appeared in public the same time and place as she and Caroline were. How Sidney had been Caroline's biggest supporter and protector through her ordeal, and how betrayed Caroline felt that Sidney was apparently in the kind of relationship with Damon that Caroline had wanted once upon a time.

And Keeley listened. Keeley listened without saying a word.

Then she did something very unexpected.

She got angry.

"Well _fuck _them, then!" Keeley cried, pumping her legs back and forth as the swing began to move. "They don't deserve you!"

Caroline blinked at her. "I'm sorry, what?"

Keeley groaned in the back of her throat before huffing, blowing a brown curl out of her face and then narrowing a pair of sharp blue eyes at the blonde. "Do you seriously not get how awesome you are?"

"Uh, no?" Caroline stuttered, not meaning for it to come out like a question.

"Well, you are!" Keeley bit out. "I mean, you're Miss Mystic Falls, for chrissake! This is your day! I mean, hell, this entire festival is practically orchestrated in your honor. Are you really going to let some vam- some _dick _ruin it for you?"

"Um, no, I guess," Caroline said, slowly raising a perfectly plucked blonde eyebrow. She had never seen Keeley this angry before.

The brunette's face was bright red in indignation, eyes practically glowing with anger. No one had ever reacted like this on Caroline's behalf before. It was kind of... Nice. Actually, it was kind of awesome.

"Come on," Keeley sniffed, leaping off of the swing at its highest point in the arch and then landing with only a little bit of a stumble. "Let's head back to civilization. Your public needs you."

Caroline had to grin at that, and forced herself back to her aching feet, straightening out her cream colored dress and the Tiffany box blue sash tied around it.

"Do I look alright?" she asked nervously.

"Like a queen," Keeley replied, all confidence, and then reached out and took Caroline's hand. "Let's go, Your Majesty."

Caroline had to laugh at that one, and a bright, toothy smile graced her face as the two girls made their way back around Town Hall.

"Keeley," she couldn't help but say.

"Hmm?"

"I think you might be my best friend."

Keeley didn't reply to that, just glanced over her shoulder and _beamed _at Caroline, and Caroline felt a sudden rush of warm affection for the other girl.

Who needed Damon and Sidney? Caroline Forbes was a God damned queen, and it was about time the rest of the world started to realize it.

* * *

I felt kind of like a piece of shit person.

And no matter what Damon said, I thought I kind of deserved to feel like a piece of shit person.

After Caroline ran off, I tried to follow her, but hoop skirts were hard to run in and Mrs. Lockwood had intercepted me before I could make it out of the gym. Instead of explaining things as best I could to Caroline, I had been forced to go back to the meet-and-greet and pretend like Damon had never said anything about anything to me, despite his constant attempts at pulling me aside again. Keeley had come in at some point, shortly after Mrs. Lockwood had discovered Caroline had gone missing and begun to panic, and Elena and Anastasia kept asking me if something had happened that I wasn't telling them about.

Yes, yes something had. A lot of things had happened all at once and I couldn't really tell anyone about them because they were way too personal and I didn't want to bother anyone and also- _fucking Damon-_

Not only did I feel like a horrible person, I also felt like a helpless, horrible person.

Currently, it was just past sundown and Anastasia and I were holed up in the girls' locker room, a smelly place we hadn't ventured into since the dreaded gym classes of freshman year. Me and the rest of the soccer team had our own locker rooms in the field house outside of the school, which smelled much better than these did, and Anastasia was laughably out of shape, so the odor of the room was nearly unbearable for both of us.

I suffered in silence, figuring I kind of deserved it for what Caroline was going through right about now.

"Are you _sure_ you're alright?" Anastasia asked suspiciously for the fifth time in five minutes.

"Yes," I snapped back immediately, jumping up and down to try and get my legs to fit inside of my skinny jeans. "I'm fine."

"No you're not," Anastasia sighed, pushing glasses up the bridge of her nose. "You're acting like a complete head case. What's wrong, Sidney?"

I glared at her, pulling a t-shirt on over my head. "_Nothing_," I insisted, practically snarling at her. "I'm _fine_."

I wasn't fine. I was about the furthest thing from fine that I had ever been.

"Is this about you and-"

"I'm not talking about this with you, Anastasia!" I snapped, because I couldn't. I couldn't talk about this with anyone.

Anastasia visibly recoiled. I rarely yelled or shouted at anyone, and Anastasia was a bit more sensitive than most. I felt even crappier at how I had just treated my best friend, but I just couldn't right now. I couldn't handle talking about this.

I was panicking.

"Alright," she said slowly. "I'll just leave you alone, then, I guess."

And then she was gone, and I was alone.

I was always going to be alone.

Almost robotically, I laced up my boots and pulled on my coat, tucking my cellphone and wallet into my pocket and then slamming the locker door shut. I would collect my dress and such once the night was over and I could finally go back home.

Predictably, Damon was waiting for me as soon as I stepped out of the locker room.

I almost laughed at the look of disdain on his face, but forced a weak grin instead and said, "Don't worry, we'll get out of here soon enough."

He just sneered at the linoleum and concrete surrounding him, grabbing me by the shoulder and steering me toward the exit. "I don't understand how you do this every day," Damon said, voice dripping with disgust. "I would go insane."

I rolled my eyes at him. "It's not as bad as you think it is," I told him, thinking about my soccer team mates and Corbin and Anastasia. "Besides, I've only got four more months until graduation."

The reminder sobered me, and I had to swallow down a thick lump in my throat.

Graduation.

What was I going to do after graduation?

College was the obvious answer, but I had been wait listed or rejected for two out of three of my top choices, and I was too terrified of failure to send in my application to NYU quite yet. And could I really leave Mystic Falls, even if I did get accepted?

With all of the supernatural disasters that had been happening lately, it didn't look like I could.

The silence grew between Damon and I as we made our way out of the school and into the twilight. I could feel what he had been wanting to tell me hanging in the air, thick and heavy, and we spoke at the same time.

"Sidney-"

"Damon, please don't-"

We stopped and just stared at each other. My entire body was shaking, eyes stinging with unshed tears, and he just glared at me, shoulders tensed.

"I know what you're about to say," I said hoarsley. "And you can't- _we can't _do this. It's-"

"I know," he growled. "I know what you're thinking, and you're _wrong_, Sidney. You've never been so fucking wrong in your entire life. I know what all your reasons and excuses are, and I don't care. I don't care about any of them." He threw his shoulders back, and said, "Sidney, I-"

"Miss Gilbert! Mr. Salvatore!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Damon cried, but I sighed in relief at Harper's appearance and said, "What are you doing here? I thought you and the others left town."

"We did, ma'am," Harper said quickly, "but we heard- Well, we were told something and we figured that you needed to hear about it."

The hunter part of me in my head snapped to attention and I straightened. "What's going on, Harper?" I asked.

"It's the other tomb vampires," he explained. "They contacted Miss Pearl and told her they were going to kill the Founding Families tonight, when the fireworks go off. You two need to get out of here as fast as you can."

Damon and I went from angsty-epic-romance mode to kill-all-evil-vampires mode faster than you could say "buzz kill".

"You tell Stefan and Elena what's going on," I told him, "and Harper and I," I bridged at a nod from the overly-polite vampire, "will get the others out of here. Get Ric and Carson on the same page, too, if you don't mind?"

Damon just snorted at me before nodding, and before he could vanish, I grabbed his leather-clad arm.

"Be careful," I told him hesitantly, "please?"

He hesitated, nodded, and then he was gone.

* * *

"If you've come here to apologize to me, save your breath."

I almost rolled my eyes at Caroline's predictably-bitchy comment, but remembered I kind of deserved it and bit my lip instead.

"Well, yeah, I am pretty sorry," I ventured, retreating immediately once I saw the look on her face, "but that's not important. You need to get out of here. _Now._"

"Why?" Tyler Ass-wood demanded. He, Matt, Keeley, and Caroline were all sitting together in the Mystic Grille, and I was a little relieved to find a good chunk of my friends all in the same spot.

"Err," I said, because I couldn't really tell them that a bunch of evil vampires were trying to kill all of them, and shot help-me eyes at Keeley, who knew about the vampires and could come up with a way to convince them to leave. She just glared at me.

_What the fuck?_

Then I remembered she and Caroline were kind of best friends and paled. _Oh, shit._

"Look," I said, because I obviously wasn't going to get any help from there, "I can't explain things to you right now- I can't even promise that I'll ever be able to, but you need to leave. Things are about to get really, really dangerous."

Tyler just snorted, Caroline and Matt stared at me like I was insane, and Keeley looked kind of like she was about to throw up. I gathered that she understood at least a little bit of what I was trying to get across to her.

She swallowed slowly and then got to her feet. "Look, guys," she began, "maybe we should go. It's getting kind of late."

Thank God for Keeley Saltzman.

Matt sent her an odd look. "Please tell me you aren't buying into this BS, Keels."

"We'll miss the fireworks!" Caroline complained.

Keeley laughed nervously, even as Tyler glared at her with steely eyes, and said, "Who cares about fireworks? Let's go somewhere and get drunk!"

The promise of alcohol made Tyler's face light up, and he grinned at her before standing, twirling a ring of keys around his finger. "She's right. Let's get out of here."

Tyler was the first to leave, followed by an overly-eager Keeley and a much more hesitant Caroline and Matt. I breathed a sigh of relief and fell into their now-empty booth.

Four down, like a billion more to go.

* * *

When I met up with Harper again, he was with Elena, Stefan, and Jeremy, who tucked what looked like a tiny glass bottle into his hoodie pocket. I wondered if he was on drugs again, and then shook it off. We didn't have the time for this, right now. I could ask him about it later.

"Good job, Harper," I told the vampire, grinning at the sheepish look on his face.

"It's no problem, Miss Sidney," he told me. "Did you get the others out?"

Elena looked like she was about to ask the same question, so when I replied, it was to her: "Keeley got Caroline, Matt and Tyler to leave, and I texted Anastasia and Bonnie. Damon went to go get the hunters."

Stefan nodded, looking grave, as usual, and opened his mouth to say something-

That was when it happened.

He and Harper dropped at the same time.

Elena was the one who screamed, but Jeremy silenced her quickly. My brother and I were thinking along the same lines: Whatever was happening, drawing attention to ourselves was the last thing we needed right now.

"What's happening?" I demanded of my siblings, knowing as I did that they probably didn't know the answer anymore than me.

"I don't know," Jeremy answered, affirming my thought, and Elena looked just as helpless as I felt.

I squared my shoulders and asked; "Where did Damon go?"

He would know what was happening. He always did.

Elena's nose wrinkled, and she looked up from Stefan's unresponsive face. "He said something about finding our Uncle-"

I froze. And in the next second, I was running.

* * *

It was like a waking nightmare.

All I could do was run.

I didn't know where Damon had gone, didn't know where Elena had seen him last, didn't know where Uncle John was, didn't know where the tomb vampires were. All I knew was that for some reason two vampires had dropped pretty-much-dead right in front of me, and something in my gut told me that there was something very, very wrong about what was happening right now. And John was probably the cause of it.

I probably pissed off a lot of people that night, pushing my way through crowds and screaming Damon's name at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't find it in me to care much.

"Damon!" I screamed again. "Damo-Ah!"

Someone had grabbed me. No one vampiric. There wasn't the marble-like hardness in the arms that I had come to recognize, but still a kind of wiry strength that told me whoever it was was not to be messed with. Human, then, and not happy with me trying to find Damon-

"John," I said the same time I thought it, pulling away from him. "Where is he?"

John just _fucking grinned at me. _God, I hated that man. "You'll see."

"What do you mean I'll-"

I saw it.

My dad's office.

_On fire._

_Shit shit shit shit more shit shit FUCK SHIT FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK-_

"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast."

John had grabbed me again as I made to run for the office, and this time, I couldn't get free. My boots skidded against the pavement for purchase, and I thrashed in my uncle's arms, finally landing a punch square in his nose. He sling-shotted back, finally letting go of me, and I stumbled a few steps away from him. But he was still blocking my way to the office.

Blocking my way to Damon.

My legs spread into a defensive stance, and my hand twitched toward the inside of my coat. A stake wouldn't do much against a human, I knew. I had to think outside of the box this time.

As I watched, John spat blood out of his mouth and repositioned his nose with an audible crack.

"An eye for an eye," I snipped at him, gaze constantly flickering to the fire over his shoulder. "Domestic violence is a real problem these days, you know."

John ignored me and spat out another mouthful of blood. "What I don't understand," he bridged, far too slowly for my taste, when Damon may have been burning to death behind him, "is why you are trying so hard to save that monster. He ruined your life."

That was true.

Damon had ruined my life. Nothing had been the same since he had come. Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to. My grief over my parents had started with the summer and ended with it. My eating disorder had started with the summer and ended with it. My fear of alcohol and of people had started with the summer and ended with it. Ended with Damon's arrival.

But the danger, the helplessness, everything that had happened to me... That was Damon's fault, too.

But him. His presence in my life. Everything we had shared, everything we had been through together.

The times when I didn't want to talk and we could just sit and share silence, or when we did and we could exchange insults and barbs and actually intelligent comments back and forth for ours. Getting drunk with him and talking about his favorite books and films that I would probably never take the time to experience. Him telling me about all the places he had gone and everything he wanted to show me. How he had comforted me when Elena had been taken and when I had lost everything I had...

That was something worth fighting for.

"Alright," I finally said, after maybe a second too long of thinking. "Yeah, Damon did ruin my life." I took a deep breath, stuffing my hands into my coat pocket. "But he's also the best thing that ever happened to it."

And with that said, I withdrew the handgun in my pocket and shot.

John went down.

"You'll never reach him in time!" he shouted as I ran past him. "He'll be dead before you even find him. You'll burn!"

Yeah, maybe I would. But at least I'd be burning with Damon.

The smoke was so thick by the time I had reached the office doors that I could barely breathe, but that didn't stop me. Nothing would stop me. I planted my foot squarely on the glass door and it gave way, almost making me lose my balance as I tumbled into the office. Then I was running again.

No one in the lobby.

No one in the hallway.

No one in either of the three examination rooms.

No one in the work room.

No one in the office.

No one in the bathrooms.

No one anywhere.

Maybe it was the smoke or the heat or the stress of the situation, but my mind suddenly flashed to a memory of the one summer when I had thought I wanted to be a child pediatrician, like my father. I had shadowed him nearly every day and then realized that I was bored out of my mind by his job. That was when I discovered the basement, and built myself a fort down there.

The basement, _of course._

Another door went down, and I barreled down the stairs as the office's lobby went up in flames behind me. I didn't have a way out, but I could worry about that later. Right now, I needed to get to Damon.

I nearly choked on smoke as I stumbled down the stairs, eyes alighting on the bodies piled around the basement I used to play in. The bodies of the people who had tortured and hurt me. But still, no Damon.

"Damon!" I cried again, the tears dripping down my face the only thing keeping the heat from consuming me. "Where are you?"

There was a hoarse cough, and then: "I'm here, Siddie! I'm here!"

And there he was. I had missed him, at first, because he was so close to the staircase that I could barely see him, but I wasn't missing him now.

I reached him just as the stairs gave out. He let out a hiss of warning and I crouched over him, shielding both of us with my back. Something hot scorched against my spine, and I could smell something burning. When I turned, I saw my coat was on fire.

I let out a panicked shriek before stopping, dropping, and rolling, and whipped the charred article of clothing off before crouching down and lifting Damon best I could. That was the second coat he had ruined in two months, now. Dick.

"Wait! Wait!" he coughed in my ear. "We can't leave Richard!"

I blinked ash out of my eyes and glanced at the spot where Damon had been lying, paralyzed, to find Mayor Lockwood splayed out only a few feet away. My jaw dropped, and I snapped it shut again quickly, coughing on the smoke.

"I can't get both of you out at once," I wheezed, legs shaking even now. I was stronger than the average human, I knew, but not strong enough to carry the two-hundred pounds of vampiric muscle that was Damon, and whatever Mayor Lockwood was, at the same time.

And we didn't have time for a second trip.

"Go!" Mayor Lockwood coughed at me. "Just go, Sidney. Tell Tyler I love him and I'm sorry!"

Every part of me wanted to try and carry both men at once. But I couldn't, I knew I couldn't, so I forced myself to nod and trudge over to the cellar doors that were Damon and my only chance of getting out of the office alive.

It was when I tried to kick the doors open that I realized two things at once: Dad had always kept them locked with a thick iron chain and an equally thick padlock, and the wall the doors were situated on was about to crumble on top of Damon and me.

Just as I was thinking this, they did.

I let out a shriek, legs finally giving out, and sank to the floor, watching with wide eyes as the wall finally gave way and fell on top of me in a fiery rain of plaster and timber and brick.

And then suddenly, it wasn't anymore.

When the rubble had cleared, I saw Anastasia and Bonnie's faces in the portal to the back parking lot that used to be the cellar wall. Alaric and Carson were there, too, and the two men managed to climb into the basement, grab Damon and me, and pull us back out before the building crumbled behind us. Elena was on me in an instant, sobbing, with Jeremy not too far behind, while Stefan shot me a look of gratitude from where he was standing with a hand on Damon's shoulder.

And Damon. Damon was staring at me with sheer amazement written across his face.

* * *

The whole running-into-a-burning-building-to-save-the-maybe-love-of-my-life thing really wasn't as dramatic as it was made out to be.

Damon and I were back on our feet maybe an hour later, watching the firemen try to make sense of what had happened to my dad's office. If anyone noticed that the two of us had been holding hands since the fire, they didn't mention it.

Elena was still in her dress from the parade, so she went to go change, accompanied by Stefan who was probably still terrified by everything that had happened. Bonnie followed them, having made up with Elena in time to help Anastasia save Damon and my asses. Alaric and Carson went to find Uncle John and get a status report on whatever the hell was going on with him, and Anastasia decided to take Jeremy home after giving me a huge hug and whispering in my ear that she was glad I was safe.

Damon and I stopped at the Mystic Grille so he could water down his wounds with a bottle of Scotch, and then he took me home.

That car ride was one of the most awkward of my life.

Neither of us had said a word since the fire, although we kept finding excuses to touch each other. I kept having to remind myself that he was really here next to me. I hadn't lost him.

"You know, it's funny," I said, just to break the oppressive silence, "I used to love bonfires." I punctuated this statement by sniffing at the hem of the t-shirt I had been wearing all night. It smelled, predictably, like smoke. "But now I'm pretty sure I hate them."

Damon just grunted in response, not looking away from the road as he finally pulled into my driveway. To my surprise, he kept my door locked once we had parked, choosing instead to walk around the front of the car and open it for me. He walked me to my front porch, too, and I was forced to wonder where all this gentlemanly behavior had come from all of a sudden.

I stared at him for a moment once we had reached the front stoop, then nodded and turned to open the door. Before I could, though, I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Sidney?" his voice said, and I hummed in response. "I want to try something."

He turned me around, planted his other hand on my other shoulder, bent down, hesitated, and then kissed me.

But this time. This time it was different.

This kiss was soft and sweet, so light that I almost couldn't believe it was happening. Both of our lips were chapped, and the friction of his rubbing against mine was doing _things _to my downstairs area. My heart was pounding unbelievably hard, and I knew he could hear it. Hell, I could hear it, even with my measly human ears.

His lips curved against mine in what was probably one of his damn smirks, and tingles went through me wherever we were touching. My hands shook where they lay limply at my sides, and I just couldn't get my eyes to close, so I felt kind of like the biggest kissing creep in the world. But I couldn't help it. I was in shock. Damon was kissing me like-

Like he loved me.

He finally pulled, back, smirking, and took a deep breath.

"I'm in love with you, Siddie," he finally said. "There. I'm in love with you. Have been for a while now, but haven't really figured out what to do about it until now. And I know you think that I'm just fooling myself into thinking that because of Katherine- but you're _wrong. _You are so wrong. You have never been more wrong about anything in your life. I'm in love with you, Sidney Gilbert, and you're in love with me, and I won't let you hide from it anymore."

I stared at him, jaw dropped, with no idea what to do.

Had he just-?

The glass front door swung open and Elena emerged, brown eyes blown wide. She kept staring between Damon and I with this look of complete awe on her face, and I realized she had probably seen everything.

Dammit.

"Uh, Sidney?" she squeaked. "You should probably, um, come inside?"

I nodded dumbly, unable to do much but stare at Damon, who was just smirking at me, and followed her.

I cleared my throat once the door had closed, lip-biting myself out of my stupor. "So, er, Elena?"

"Yeah?"

"How much of that did you see?"

"All of it."

"Like, all of it, all of it?"

"All of it, all of it."

"Oh, shit."

She raised an eyebrow at me, and the two of us stared at each other for a few seconds. "So, are you and Damon-?"

"Don't ask," I said hastily. "Just-just don't ask." The truth was, I didn't know how to react to this anymore than she did.

Elena just shrugged and said, "Alright," and then all of a sudden, there was a horrifyingly familiar pinching, burning sensation in my side.

When I looked down, a kitchen knife was protruding from between my ribs. Blood started gushing out a moment later.

I had been stabbed.

"Elena," I gasped, hands cupping the wound, trying to add enough pressure to stop the blood so I could be lucid. "Wh- why? Why did you-?"

She grinned at me as I sunk to my knees, and the world spun into black spots with splashes of color.

"Stay away from him," Elena's voice hissed. "He's still mine."

That's when I realized.

Elena hadn't been the one who stabbed me.

It was-

"Katherine," I whispered, and then everything went dark.

* * *

**A/N: Endings are always difficult. I usually never finish projects that I start, and it's a bit of a miracle that I did with this one, but for some reason, Sidney and Damon just wouldn't let me go. I started this story my sophomore year of high school, and now, I'm about to start my freshman year of college. I'm a very different person, and a very different writer now, and this fic, and all of you who have been reading it from the very beginning, are a big part of that.**

**I want to thank a few people right here for their constant support of this story and its scatter-brained writer. I certainly wouldn't have made it this far without you: the guest reviewer who commented on every single chapter the day it went up, without fail; Queenylime21, whose long, in depth comment about why she thinks this story rocks made my day and kept me from deleting this fic three chapters in; findingyouagain, whose sweet comments kept me going when I hit a road block; and Jennifer and Aria, my best friends, who supported my writing choices even when I wasn't completely sure of them. And I can't forget you, if you are reading this right now. Every read, follow, favorite, and review gives me so much more confidence in my own abilities, and I will never be able to thank you enough for that. Thank you so, so much for all of your support.**

**We all know this isn't the end of Sidney's story, however, so follow either me or this fic for notifications and sneak peeks of the next installment of the series: **_**The Slayer Diaries.**_

**Thanks again, and much love to each and every single one of you. See you again next time!**

**Love always,**  
**Lil**


	26. THE SLAYER DIARIES SNEAK PREVIEW

_**THE SLAYER DIARIES: **_**Sneak Previews and Release Date Announcement**

**SEX SCENE COUNT: AS OF 8/7/16**

Eight sex scenes- a few of which are not between Sidney and Damon. Are they cheating on each other? Do Damon and Mason have hate-sex? (Spoilers: No.) Who knows! I'll leave that up for you to guess!

**NON-CANNON DEATH COUNT: AS OF 8/7/16**

Four non-cannon deaths- and you are really going to hate my guts for a few of them.

**KIDNAPPING SCENE COUNT: AS OF 8/7/16**

Five kidnapping scenes- four of which are not cannon!

**TABLE OF CONTENTS AND CORRESPONDING EPISODES**

**Chapter 1: **Injected (episode 1-The Return)

**Chapter 2: **The World Without You (episode 2- Brave New World)

**Chapter 3: **While You Were Sleeping (episode 3- Bad Moon Rising and episode 4- Memory Lane)

**Chapter 4: **Liar, Liar (episode 5- Kill or be Killed)

**Chapter 5: **The Moonstone (episode 6- Plan B)

**Chapter 6: **How to Kill a Katherine (episode 7- Masquerade)

**Chapter 7: **The Originals (episode 8- Rose and episode 9- Katerina)

**Chapter 8: **Family Matters (episode 10- The Sacrifice)

**Chapter 9: **Deal with the Devil (episode 11- By the Light of the Moon)

**Chapter 10: **Being Human (episode 12- The Descent)

**Chapter 11: **Gone to the Dogs (episode 13- Daddy Issues)

**Chapter 12: **Prove it (episode 14- Crying Wolf and episode 15- The Dinner Party)

**Chapter 13: **Rising Tide (episode 16- The House Guest and episode 17- Know Thy Enemy)

**Chapter 14: **Vampire Prom (episode 18- The Last Dance)

**Chapter 15: **Sleeping with the Enemy (episode 19- Klaus)

**Chapter 16: **A Secret Kept (episode 20- The Last Day)

**Chapter 17: **The Necessary Death (episode 21- The Sun Also Rises and episode 22- As I Lay Dying)

**And the moment you've been waiting for... THE SLAYER DIARIES RELEASE DATE IS:**

**SEPTEMBER 5, 2016**

I can't tell you how excited I am for this next installment- I'm very proud of the outline I've come up with, and I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I will enjoy writing it. Keep following this story. I'll post another update on here once _The Slayer Diaries _is up, or you can just follow my account.

Love Always,  
Lil


	27. THE SLAYER DIARIES ANNOUNCEMENT

**THE SLAYER DIARIES**

Aaaahhh! It's up! It's up, it's up, it's up! Go read it!


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